


Like Ice

by arcana_fuse



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety Disorder, College AU, Exploring Sexuality, F/F, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M for sexual content, PTSD, Slow Burn, catra is an amputee, clear ableism, dyslexia/learning disabilities, fluff tho I promise, former military catra, if the tags didn’t prove they have issues I will, introspection. lots of it, long chapters, love is painful deal with it, no beta yes I’m crazy, they’re both 23
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:27:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23120995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcana_fuse/pseuds/arcana_fuse
Summary: The words felt hollow in her mouth. Just like everyone else, Adora gave her that look. After knowing Catra for so long, she should know that the last thing she'd ever want is someone's pity."Stop that. Stop.. looking at it." Catra hissed,"Catra...."Feeling tears threaten her every aching thought, Catra couldn't bare to face her. The one person she always vowed she'd be strong for, seeing her at her most vulnerable— her most physically challenged. She felt pathetic. She couldn't be here, and she couldn't handle letting Adora back into her shithole life. Not after everything that had happened.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 289





	1. how I’ve wronged you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 enjoy!

The night Adora told Catra she was leaving was, undoubtably, the worst day of her entire life.

Call it an overreaction if you will— a stretch, perhaps. “Worst day of her life” was certainly saying something considering how fucked up Catra's childhood had proved to be thus far. Essentially raised by the school system alone as well as foster mother with a vendetta against hybrids, it was no surprise she'd be in for a anything short of a shitty life. She’d certainly sported her own set of mental and physical issues ever since she was a kit, only further heightened with her moldered socioeconomic conditions. But that was exactly the point. The physical and emotional abuse she'd endured for a grueling eighteen years, her hell on earth—it had nowhere near the same affect on her as that night.

_That night._

The night where Adora had finally proven to Catra what a liability she saw her as. What a mistake it was to befriend her, how much further she could go without her unrelenting problems dragging her down. How meaningless the eighteen years they'd grown up together had been.

  
The night had been warm then, calm and collected. Characterized by congenial routine and regularity. Adora turned the key to her place with a heavy grin, excitement brimming through her form. 

"Catra?" Adora opened the door to their shared dorm, shutting it behind her as her keys jingled from her pocket. They’d only recently rented it together, just turning 18 and old enough to buy their own place. But it was long overdue— they had been buzzing about leaving the foster home ever since they were kids. The lights were dim, as Adora had just come home from work, greeting Catra on her day off. She set the keys on the table and trudged to the living room.

"What's up, Adora?" Catra's attention was on the the screen in front of her— her hands occupied by an Xbox controller as she scaled the mountaintops of the endless world of _The Rise of the Tomb Raider._ Catra spent most of her days off with her nose in a video game, neglecting her studies even to Adora's wavering disapproval. They were nearing the end of their senior year and they really needed to apply themselves and finish strong since college was right around the corner. But it seemed to give Catra some peace that couldn't be found in school, so that much was enough.

"Can we.. can we talk real quick?" Adora clutched a piece of paper tight within her palms, nerves skyrocketing. She could hardly contain her bolstering excitement— manifesting itself into racing anxiousness.

"About what?" A yellow eye peeked away from the tv screen at what Adora was holding, "A letter?"

"A letter from Brightmoon."

Catra side-eyed her curiously, her hand movements slowing. Her scrunched expression seeming to judge the situation, assuming the obvious.

"Figures those stuck-up douchebags would give you a full ride." She stuck out her tongue and mashed more buttons in concentration. After all, Adora was a practical genius. Never falling behind in her studies, even when juggling a division I sports career and heavy expectations from their foster mother. Catra hadn’t expected any less of a reward for her companion, who gave her everything to whatever she applied herself to, whether it be large or small. She wished she could say the same about herself. 

"Um.. yeah." Even with her crashing grades, Catra was nothing short of a quick study. Adora forgot that, sometimes. "That's actually what I wanted to talk about."

At the seriousness in Adora's voice, Catra paused the game and turned off the tv. Offering Adora her focused attention and a groan at the disturbance. 

Catra raised an eyebrow in question, and Adora sat in the space beside her, hands digging into the sheets beneath them. This shouldn’t be so hard, right? They were just talking. 

"Next summer. I'm going to be attending Brightmoon..." she trailed off, soaking up the expression Catra gave her.

It was unreadable, the first red flag Adora detected. Catra may not be easy to read— she was a closed off person quite generally— but after growing up with her it was easy to tell what she was thinking. Right now, however, the catgirl was still, her ear flickering every once and a while as if failing to absorb the words. Adora swallowed as Catra's lips parted to speak,

"But.. you said.."

"That I'd stay here, graduate, and move on to Etherian projecture." Adora was nothing short of serious when she studied hard to pursue an architectural contracting career, that much was true, "I.. know what I said."

Catra's eye twitched. "And your mind changed because..?"

"Because they made me an offer I can't refuse." Adora said, excitement suddenly growing on her expression, "Catra, all of my expenses would be paid. You know how much we've struggled with money! And, I can still play soccer up there! Apparently, their team is prestigious.. and so is their architecture program."

Adora expected Catra to get excited for her. This is what they'd always dreamed of, right? Working toward something bigger, becoming the best at their careers of choice. Ever since they were kids, they’d been drawn toward the simple prospect of leaving this place behind.. leaving their pain behind. Going out to see the world, on their terms alone. Instead, a heartwrenching frown tore down Catra's face as she said, carefully, “Adora, Brightmoon is.. across the country."

"Yeah! But I was hoping—"

"That I'd come with you?"

And it was then that the air felt like ice between them, goosebumps unfurling down the blonde's arms. The statement had left the catgirl’s lips so condescendingly, painfully. Catra began to laugh, but not in joy or excitement.. rather in disbelief.

"Are you being serious? Do you think I can afford that? Do you think I even.. _want_ to go?" The words that Catra spoke were the ones Adora had feared of, and she felt her heart crumble beneath them. Rejection was certainly not something she’d expected from her best friend— especially when presented with the chance to do what they’d always wanted. She’d never imagine it’d hurt this much. 

_Why wouldn't she? Bright moon had so much opportunity to offer the both of them!_ She’d thought it over countless times. Took Catra’s lifestyle into careful consideration— they could room together, and buy a place with blasting AC because Catra liked the feeling of it brushing on her fur. They’d make sure they weren’t too far from a coffee place because they both (mostly Catra) functioned best in the morning with a warm drink in hand. There were dozens of schools around, some far more suitable for her best friends condition in the case she didn’t want to try to apply at Brightmoon. Yeah, of _course_ she’d planned this out. So how could Catra offer her that look— “No! I just.."

"You just assumed I'd follow." She repeats the accusation once more, laced with venom.

Adora stared at Catra, and she stared back. With even more malice— betrayal scorning every bone in her body. She _had_ thought that, didn't she? That they were a package deal?   
  


Maybe Adora would never truly understand that night, no matter how many times she tried to figure out what went wrong. What she’d said wrong— _done_ wrong. They’d talked about it for a long as she couldn’t remember, but right now.. nothing seemed familiar.   
  


"I can't go, Adora." _And I cant believe you'd just leave me like that,_ she also seemed to say with her expression, but the words didn't form. 

Adora's voice was apologetic,

"Catra—"

"No, Adora, I get it." Catra seemed to make a sudden realization, walls crashing from around her. She huffed out a breath, crossing her arms and turning away from Adora,

"Getting to the top. Being the best— It's more important to you than me. Than _us._ ” After all, it had seemed that way for a while, now. The only times they could spare together was the shared space of their dorm. Adora so incredibly immersed in her future, so obsessed with her credibility that she’d neglected anything but. Catra hadn’t ever been that way. How could she, what with the extenuating circumstances that plagued her? Maybe it made sense in hindsight, why Adora was slowly drifting away from her. Catra would never be able to live that way if she tried. It only made sense that at some point, Adora would have to abandon that weight.   
  


Adora's stomach churned at the statement, reaching out to Catra to prove to her that wasnt true, "Catra, that's _not_ how it is. I’m still gonna be here for you—“

"No, but it _is_!" Catra was holding back tears, now, arms wrapped around herself in a defensive stance, "You were _never_ there for me! You never helped me through school unless I begged you, you never defended me from Weaver, never did _anything_ that would jeopardize your career. So I think we both know which one is more important to you."

"Catra you _know_ you're more important to me than anything else—"

"Then why can't you just stay?" Catra said, hand gripping Adora's tightly. "We have everything we ever wanted. Is it not enough for you?" She could feel tears, now. She felt pathetic. Maybe she was— maybe that was what Adora wanted. 

"Catra I—"

"Please don't go, Adora. How could you just.. give up on _us_ , on our plans so easily?" Her incisors were bared now, and she looked so terribly destroyed by the news that Adora was left speechless. "We had our whole lives planned out. Was it all for nothing? Was it all meaningless?!"   
  


Maybe Catra had clung to her best friend far too tightly—for far too long. It was easier to see that, now, as Adora stood before her, simply telling her she was leaving. Maybe forever. To Catra, it was the end of the world. 

"Catra!" Adora yelped, shoving down the desperation within her voice. They had planned out their whole lives. _Here_ had never been a part of it! _Together_ had always been an affluent piece, however, so why did this have to be the end? 

" _What_?"

"Catra I _want_ you to come with me, I want you to come to Brightmoon. Can't you see that? The last thing I want to do is leave you, Catra, I—"

"You know we're not the same, Adora." Catra spoke like a branding fire, incisors biting into her lip. Their incredible indifference had always stood like a gaping void, it was just a matter of ignoring it or not. "I'm never going to a fancy college, I'm never getting the scholarships or the money. I can't possibly handle all of that bullshit, not to mention who would even _want me_? It's never been that way for me, and it never will." She felt her shoulders slumping, felt her defensive stance coming into play. Gods, was she pathetic. Couldn't even appear even relatively strong in the face of her best friend, seem unphased that she was just _leaving_ — how could she?

"And let's face it, Adora. Your future doesn't have me in it." _Not like mine did,_ Catra said, tongue dripping with hurt. Adora could feel her own throat become tight, at a loss of words. As Catra ripped her hand away from Adora's, that almost seemed like the end.

She read Adora's expression. It was clear, now, that this was the point of no return. Nothing Catra could say would change her mind. She wanted to open her mouth and call Catra back, tell her they could work something out. They always did. But her throat was on fire and Catra wasn’t turning around and her body was frozen and—-

"Have fun having the entire world wrapped around your pretty little finger." Catra spat. If she could say she didn't mean every single word, she would. But she did.

She hadn't missed the tears that wrapped around Adora's eyelids, some stray ones dragging her mascara down her face. She wanted to growl at the sight— who said _Adora_ got to cry, to feel defeated and destroyed? She was the one who was leaving. Catra felt what seemed to be a hand wrapped around her throat as she held back her own, chest catching fire of the sight before her.

She was better than this. Better than the rippling tears, the empty promises, these meaningless fights that would inevitably destroy the both of them. She left Adora on the floor of their shared apartment, who was crumbled to her knees and now fully sobbing. At least in this brief reality, this sick excuse at validation.. _she_ could leave Adora first.

That night, a certain poster plastered bright against the stark white of city hall caught Catra's eye. In her frenzied rage and her quest to run, run anywhere aside from this branding town, the printed words travelled straight to the back of her mind.

_Enlist!_

_Serve your country & reap the rewards_!

Maybe if not for her situation, the words would hardly effect her. But admittedly, the prospect was enticing. The image of a young man with a camo helmet and a long smile stared down at her, as if expectantly waiting for a reaction. All she could fathom from this image was no prior expectations, a fresh start. A chance to prove herself. 

Now that was something she could do.

She tried to ignore the fact that only minutes ago, she had _begged_ and pleaded Adora to stay. And now her body moved almost robotically; away from the corpse of a friend she had left in her wake. Her heart was in pieces at her feet, sure, but she vowed she wouldn't let it define her. She would move on.

•=========================

No such luck.

"Miss Catra?” The statement went from one ear through the other like a strange mist. Her daydreams were more powerful than the outside world, after all. Her past mistakes taunted her in an insufferable loop, a broken record of betrayal and resentment, and reality was hardly Catra's concern.

" _Miss Catra_."

This time the voice broke through, every gear in Catra's head shattering. She blinked rapidly as her surroundings suddenly came to light, a sea of desks and classmate's faces enrapturing her.

"..Do you happen to know the answer?" Her teacher stood beside the whiteboard with crossed arms.

"Uh..." as she raised her head to face the board, she suddenly felt dizzy, the professor seeming miles away. The class feel silent and she felt the burning eyes of her classmates waiting for a response. Fuck, she'd done it again, unfailingly. Got lost in her own world of self pity and resentment.

The words upon the board were meaningless to Catra as she squinted, hard, in an attempt to tackle them. Not that the question that was asked was on the board, anyway.

"You know, Catra, I'm not going to simply.. pity you." Her gaze was the of the same brandish annoyance as every teacher she'd had in the past,and Catra could feel her stomach churn in response, "..Your ears work far better than the rest of us. So, if you'd kindly keep your attention up front?"

A couple of snickers from her classmates around her accompanied the remark, and Catra felt said ears twitch in embarrassment. Her face burned, and she sunk even further into her desk hoping she could simply disappear.

Catra stormed out of the classroom as fast as she could at the last bell of the day. Head pressed against the steering wheel, she fought against the pounding of her head. She grit her teeth in anger as she felt regret soar throughout her body. She should've known it was a mistake to try and go back to school. It was impossible then, and even more demanding of her now. Not that she wanted anyone's pity, anyone's sympathy.. but the least these community college assholes could do was be more _understanding_. The humiliation she had felt from her professor and judging classmates branded her like iron, and she took a deep breath before turning the key of the engine and pulling out of the parking lot.

As the surrounding buildings and cityscapes passed by, Catra's mind taunted her with her lifelong problem. Defect. From the very moment Catra entered grade school, it was clear she was doomed to a life of educational struggle— scratch that, _day-to-day_ struggle. She wanted to laugh at her own desperate attempts at resuming education; she was a fool to think that at some twenty two years old, things would be different. But it wasn't that Catra had a scaldingly low IQ that caused her to bomb every single subject; rather an... intellectual flaw.

When faced with words upon the page, all Catra could feel was an aching battle within her mind. Her dyslexia had been but a cruel burden ever since being faced with the prospect of reading, writing, anything that her head would refuse to abide by. Sure, it wasn't quite as horrible as when she was a kid, but even now she'd never be able to perform at an acceptable standard. There weren't schools for fucked up people like her. After all, her excommunicated foster mother, Weaver, had made that _all too clear_ to her.

She wanted to scream. Bust out all of the windows of her car, toss it over and run away. Already, she could hardly scrape by. Her roommates had very selflessly picked up a lot of Catra's slack, making her rent payments for her when she couldn't scrounge around enough money. But jumping from place to place waitressing wasn't something that could properly sustain her for much longer. Paying for these college classes certainly wasn't helping her pocket, either— and they didn't seem to be helping her in gaining a career with livable profit.

When she parked at her shared apartment, she stepped out of the car, shoving her hands into her coat pockets.

The noisy bustle and overwhelming crowds taking hold of the streets of Brightmoon were no new occurrence to Catra, one that stuck in her ears like clockwork. It was still hard to get used to, as she'd lived on the countryside for a fair part of her life. The flicker of the spotty streetlights reminded Catra that electricity was hard to come by in such an expensive city; small commodities like this she considered a luxury.

Moving to Brightmoon had been hard; unbearably hard, really, but for the sake of only being financially stable enough to stay with the only two people in the world Catra could actually stand, she would bite. The three of them- Scorpia, Entrapta and her seemed like the only ones who understood each other in this dead end, stuck up city. They sought a fresh start here, a better purpose.

Catra was yet to find it.

But simply walking across these streets with her hands shoved in her pockets was more than enough trauma to reflect upon. All those years ago, she couldn’t help but feel disgust that these are the streets her best friend chose over her. The rock that Catra booted across the sidewalk without thought, _that was her_. That was how Adora had always seen her, wasn’t it?

Disposable. Pathetic. And even into adulthood, Adora was probably right. She hated that. 

As much as Catra wanted to say she was over it, moved on, some six years later the day that they parted haunted her endlessly. She still questioned it, still blamed Adora— though mostly _herself_ , now. Very little had changed in the fact that she still hated herself and resented everything that had happened between them. Suppose joining the army was the worst type of therapy you could seek.

But still, what had changed now is that Catra had absolutely _no_ desire to seek her out, to repair things. She may have thought back to it every once and a while, but extenuating circumstances had made the decision for her. It was decided.

She never wanted to see Adora again.

At least, that's what she had thought confidently of on that cold November night as she strolled across town, feeling an unfamiliar calm settle over her as her thoughts steadied themselves out. Navigating through Bright Moon was a task easier said than done. She was starting to wonder if the train station was purely a myth. She was trudging her way through the cold, bitter air on her way back to her shared apartment, praying she could finally get some recently unattainable rest. 

Fate had a different agenda that sharply conflicted Catra’s consistency. That was when a voice called from behind her, an aching question, ".. _Catra_?"

And, ears quickly pinning to the back of her head, her body felt like nothing more than ice.

The voice was unmistakable, it's lack of maturity giving it little change since that last time she'd heard it— well, maybe just a slight edge that came with age. It'd always been a soft melody, in a way. But the perception of it that'd normally came to Catra as soothing and safe had suddenly become scorchingly unbearable. Like the devil's taunting voice within her mind, deceiving her eyes (and not for the first time) and bringing her unrelenting suffering. 

_Oh dear god, please say it isn't true_.

As she stood, unmoving, she could feel her breathing start to falter. She knew she shouldn't be freaking out about running into an old friend but, this.. circumstance... Catra couldn't be seen like this. Blood pounded in her ears and, for a moment, she contemplating running. _Gods, you can hardly speed walk!_ Every escape plan formulated within her mind quickly crumbled.

_How? Why here, why now? There couldn't be a worse time._

She could already begin to visualize what Adora looked like now. Probably dressed up like some snazzy businesswoman, tooth-achingly successful at what she'd always dreamed of. _Bright moon's premiere architectural living manager._ Probably living off six figures, too. She'd wasn’t supposed to graduate from college for another year or so but Catra didn't expect anything less from Adora. She was their graduating classes's valedictorian, after all. Surely the scholarships and her determination hadn't gone to waste. 

Catra, still, felt frozen in place as a hand waved in front of her vision, breaking her out of her panicked thoughts. Without her noticing, Adora had moved from far behind her to directly in front of her. As her vision began to focus in, Catra's stomach churned.

Adora offered her a soft smile. A painful sight, really. "Oh my gosh, Catra! I wasn't sure if it was really you... it's so good to see you again!"

Simply gazing at her felt all kinds of wrong. Being so closely intertwined with someone your entire life gave you that undying urge to embrace them when reunited, right? To make amends, to regain your place by their side? But Catra didn't feel that now, as the space between them felt nothing more than hot and foggy. Awkward, even. Things had never felt that way before. Adora at least seemed to respect that as she kept her hands stuffed in her baggy jacket pockets, gazing at Catra in unstaged interest.

Adora stood much taller than Catra remembered, maybe had a good two inches on her now, (Catra made a note to fix her posture to keep that little detail less obvious) though little else had changed. She was dressed in a bright blue sweatshirt that undoubtably captured her skylined orbs, not quite the scaldingly professional attire she had expected but still screamed the casual jocky Adora that she'd always known. Golden locks trailed down her shoulders; though now noticeably shorter than before. A burgundy scarf was wrapped carefully around her neck, shielding her collarbone and mouth from the bite of the cold which surrounded them. That couldn't hide the smile that had overtaken Adora's lips at the sight of her. It sent Catra's thoughts into a frenzy; _why is she looking at me like that? All, happy and nostalgic-like?_

Steel blue eyes tearing her apart like always — seems they hadn't lost their effect much. They always saw right through her; a little fact Catra was all too envious and annoyed of.

Though Catra hadn't responded, it didn't bother the blonde much. "Last I heard from you, you had been dispatched to Normandy."

"Yeah." She answered emptily, voice feeling small. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having right now. She hadn't seen Adora in what, half a decade? Had she forgotten the circumstance they'd left on? She hardly consider them fitting to even be speaking terms right now, (maybe ever) much less any form of communication. Instead of braving eye contact, she decided on scouring the words which lay on the map in front of her. Her mind buzzed, desperately trying to put the letters into proper sentences. Her incisors nipped her upper lip as she could feel a headache in response to the desperate action— it didn't help that Adora's curious gaze was burning into her skull. It far surpassed distracting.

A soft voice broke through her intense battle of concentration, "Do you..?"

Catra's ear twitched and she closed her eyes. _Please don't ask what I think you're going to ask_.

"Do you want me to read that for you?"

All kinds of anger rising in her chest, Catra swallowed it back as best she could. On a whim, she managed to keep her composure at best. Adora was just trying to be nice, _dickhead_! And the sooner she found out where she was going, the sooner she could run away from whatever this was. Like she'd always done, right?

At least Adora had... remembered. That was fairly considerate of her.

"..Sure. But hurry, would you?" She shoved the map into Adora's hands, who seemed to glow in response. It was just a fucking map, alright? Geez. It was just like her to get overly excited at being a good samaritan. Catra felt ashamed, if anything, of her.. condition. Even after all this time, she was still crippled by it. Having to ask a practical stranger to read a simple map for her wasn't exactly unheard of.

Adora wasn't a stranger, though, and the embarrassment still branded her fiercely. She prayed Adora couldn't see her chest burning red.

"You're on your way to West Point, right? That's past north avenue," Catra's eyes followed her finger across the map. She couldn't make much sense of the words underneath, but she had no problem analyzing the enlargened pictures Adora pointed at. She swallowed hard, now finding new distraction in the way Adora's knuckle brushed against hers. "So just head past the square, and you should be fine. It's a big complex. You won't miss it."

_You won't miss it._ The words had no meaning but intent to be helpful, obviously, but to someone with eyes that betrayed them at every lingering moment, the words oddly stung. Adora's concerned blue eyes were once again visible as she looked up.

"Catra?" Her words seemed to snap her back to reality. "Are you okay..? You don't look so good."

Catra felt an immeasurable headache coming on. The same ones she always got on these stupid trips out, when she overexerted herself as she always did. Only gods could wish she could have a normal metal capacity. _Course I don't look good, Adora! I'm all kinds of fucked up, always have been! Even more so now.._

_You of all people should know that_.

The thoughts were quickly lost in a flame as she decided on, "S'nothing," desperately hoping the feeling would fade, "I've gotta go, okay?" She shoved her hands into her pockets, trying to keep her posture as light as possible. Trying harder than she'd admit to look strong. If Adora saw her as pathetic as she felt right now, God could only know...

"Catra?" A hand tugged her sleeve, effectively stunning her. The frown she gifted Catra turning every gear in her head in confusion. _Why'd she have to care_? Her every being screamed and questioned, though her mouth would never form the proper words. It's been forever, and only now does she care?

" _What_?" It came out as more of a bark. Catra cursed herself for being so hostile for no reason. Truth be told, she hadn't had much interaction with others outside her.. trainers. Roommates. Talking to Adora certainly wasn’t helping. 

Adora knew better than to question Catra's critical nature, decidedly ignoring the tone. "Why'd you come to Brightmoon?" She asked, then deciding on a more important question. Her eyes wide with worry, as always, of course Adora had to bring up her dispatch."Wait— wasn’t your stationment supposed to be for 5 years?"

Catra wanted to laugh. How could she possibly tell Adora why the hell she'd been sent back to this shithole only a couple of weeks into her dispatch? How could Adora possibly survive the imminent worry, the fear that would overtake her every being? All Adora had ever done was worry about her. For the most part, anyway— it might’ve been fake. To satiate her weird hero complex. Regardless of the ulterior motive, the least she could do was spare her that much.

"I'll... see you later, Adora." Catra muttered, turning toward the train station and walking away.

_Later_. Adora had hung onto that word like it was a promise. As she watched Catra go, wistfully, she wondered why Catra hadn't told her she had moved to Brightmoon.

And as the catgirl trudged down the moonlit street, Adora surely hadn't missed the strange limp Catra now carried with her.

==========================

Catra, try as she might, found it immeasurably difficult to get her run-in with Adora out of her head so easily. After all, before she arrived at her destination it was always recommended that she clear her head first. Running into her ex-best friend was the exact opposite of that. She shoved down anything too _familiar_ she may have felt during their encounter, for the sake of her own sanity.

"Hey wildcat!" A voice from behind her cheered, and she was suddenly enraptured in an all too familiar bone-crunching hug. Careful with how she returned it, Scorpia stumbled off of her with some difficulty.

"Scorpia," she greeted, dusting the frost off her clothes as she neared the doorway to the facility.

"It's good to see you!" She smiled, so wide it gave a pang in Catra's gut. How could she do that so effortlessly? Have that stupidly hopeful look? “I was starting to think you weren't going to show up anymore."

"Yeah well, here I am." Catra gave lame jazz hands, shoving her hands in her pockets. It was true, Catra had a famously unimpressive attendance record at her physical therapy class. It wasn't all torture, really; her roommates and former squad mates, Scorpia and Entrapta, had convinced her to go through with the class. A bit strange, the both of them, in their own respective ways.. but Catra could truly call them her friends. The fact that they'd inspired someone as unmotivated as her to drag herself to this dumb class certainly spoke volumes about them.

Fellow vets themselves, Scorpia and Entrapta took the liberty of worshipping these classes. Claiming they really gave them hope for the future, and allowed them to “grow into their new skin in a healthy and progressive manner.” Catra, however, was always nothing more than devastatingly uncomfortable when attending. The last thing she wanted was to publicly flaunt her deformity, one she was very insecure about. And these expensive classes that gnawed through her pocket always seemed like a sham, anyway. They didn't give two shits about her condition.. they were merely profiting off of her misfortune.

It was hard— _really hard_ to get accustomed to. But Scorpia and Entrapta had managed to moved mountains. Done the impossible, guided Catra through every step of the way. Don't get her wrong, they were almost _annoyingly_ supportive, but it was something that Catra needed. That irritating persistence to get her up in the morning, to be by her side throughout her healing. It was oddly nostalgic and painful to think about how alone she had felt during her deployment without them accompanying her.

Most importantly, they understood. They understood what it was like to work toward something for your whole life; only to have it ripped out of your cold hands. For the same reason, too. An early release due to extenuating circumstances. If anything, they had it much worse than her.. and could still (god knows how) keep up the overly positive demeanor that Catra could never dream of withholding.

Catra hated the pity that she received more than anything. But still, ears pinned to the back of her head, she felt vomit crawl up her throat as she gazed at Entrapta's wheelchair. Gods, if she thought her life fucking sucked, at least she could still walk worth a damn. Not to mention Scorpia had been cursed with a permanent spinal paralysis; she could walk and move, but not without her fair share of stumbling and pain. And as unappreciative as Catra was, she often wondered.. _why'd those two get it worse?_ Almost like angels walking amongst the earth, there couldn't have been any good reason for the hell they'd unwillingly endured. Catra didn't believe in fate, but karma certainly had one hell of a bite.

Shaking the reminiscent thoughts out of her head, she was suddenly greeted with a poke from behind.

"Subject seems to be spaced out...." the familiar face smiled brightly. "Will note this for later analysis following the procedure..."

Catra rolled her eyes at the engineer's babbling, fighting back a smile of her own, and turning to face her, "Hey, 'Trapta,"

Her hair was still dyed an eccentric purple, normally Catra would find the color revolting, but Entrapta made it work. She made a _lot_ of things work, actually— back on base she had been a tech genius, and had voluntarily given it her all to serve to the best of her ability. Really and truly, she had innate talent. Hell, she'd even fixed Catra's worthless leg— temporarily, of course. It was a debt Catra would never be able to repay.

"I'm glad you could join us!" She said, pushing the wheels of her wheelchair forward with one arm while grabbing Catra's hand in the other. She dragged her along, "Quickly, though! My readings tell me it's about to start!" Even while unable to use her legs, she was an unstoppable force, that much was true.

They wandered toward the center of the establishment, very well resembling a gym with mats and equipment scattered all around. A crowd of fellow trainees gathered round, retreating into their own respective circles.

There were more individualized trainers for the each of them. Catra got a new one each time she came. (After all, her attendance wasn't consistent enough to have a solidified one.) She wasn't too worried about it though, so long as her trainer wasn't annoying as she'd get out.

She approached the man she'd been assigned to. "You in group 1A?" The man chided.

"Sure am," Catra said, mindlessly.

"Cool. Name's Seth. But I prefer to go by Sea Hawk," He wasn't very tall, a baseball cap covering what was undoubtably a matted mess of brown hair. "Woah! Cool prosthetic. Mine are the same steel gray," he quickly rolled up his sweatpants, revealing two of his own. A metal prosthetic stretching from his ankle down on his right leg, the other, his left mid-thigh area. The sight was almost comforting— she'd been paired with someone struggling with nearly the exact same thing as herself. And though he could hardly see Catra's own prosthetic from through her baggy pant leg, he seemed to be very cheerful upon seeing it. _Okay, weirdo._

"My friend Entrapta made it." She shrugged, pointing out entrapta, who was now across the room, no doubt babbling to her own trainer. Eyes wide in some kind of scientific trance.

"That's awesome. Is she like, some genius?" He questioned.

"Obviously, if she could fix this bullshit." Catra shrugged.

He raised an eyebrow in question, as of waiting for her to introduce herself. "Catra." She offered. Truth be told, it felt weird being so casual.. it wasn't every day she went out and just simply conversed with anyone, not outside of Entrapta and Scorpia, anyway. As sad as it sounded, she was far from a people person.. especially now. 

"Catra...?" He drawled, asking for an elaboration.

"Garcia." She said, and he seemed to squint at her as if thinking deeply. Hands on her hips, Catra felt her skin prickle at the hard gaze.

"What, do I know you or something?" Catra asked, maybe a bit sharper than she'd have meant. He simply shrugged, no longer squinting.

"Dunno. You just look _really_ familiar.."

"Class of 2015?" Catra guessed. Seems like everyone in this town went to the same high school back in Etheria— the town was immensely small back in her teenage years, and it used to be the only one. Only recently had the city exploded in population.

"Right! F'Zone high." He scratched his chin.

"Oh! I know now! I think you dated my good friend Adora," he began to nod slowly, "Adora Grayskull, right?"

"Oh, no," Catra's eyes widened, feeling her chest catch fire, "we were never..." she swallowed hard as he raised an eyebrow in question, "We were never... _together_." She swallows hard at those words, suddenly feeling bile crawl up her throat at the assumption. It bothered her more than she’d care to admit. 

He was suddenly apologetic, "Oh! I'm so sorry. It's just that, you guys were always around one another, and-"

"It's okay." _Like she didn't know that_. It was probably an easy mistake, considering how inseparable they'd been at the time. They'd been best friends ever since they were kids, adjoined to the hip. It was only natural they'd be mistaken for something more— not that she'd ever thought about it or anything. "Can we just.. get on with it?"

The guy was at least respectful (or suppose professional) in the way he dropped the subject without question, focusing on the task at hand. "Course. May I?" He bent down beside her, and Catra crossed her arms in unbridled embarrassment, nodding slowly.

He slowly rolled up her right pant leg, and Catra shoved down the ashamed flush crawling up her neck. _It's okay_ , she assured herself, _he understands. He's got it worse._ As the cool air hit her thigh, she swallowed her fears and doubts away.

As she stood motionless, he began to examine the dark grey prosthetic, checking its flexibility, and base qualities.

"Looks snug. Have you been cleaning it?" He asked as he felt around the edges, where scarred skin met the cool base of the metal.

"No. Not really.." she admitted. There had been a lot on her mind recently, and the last thing she wanted to do was tend to that stupid thing. She'd rather not look at it at all. Just once she’d like to wake up without a hard gaze at the stupid thing, episodic regret invading her every thought. 

"To avoid any unprecedented pain, just try to keep it in check." He gave her a sharp thumbs up, rolling down her pant leg.

As they began a couple difficult exercises that were no new occurrence to Catra, her mind couldn't help but to wander. Always finding its way back to the image of her ex best friend standing before her, the familiar concern dotting her grey-blue eyes as if no time had passed at all. Catra wanted to scream and run and vent her frustration in any way possible— but her desires were not so easily complied with. I mean hell, what were the fucking chances?

And even now, of course out of the hundreds of physical trainers Catra could have, they were _somehow_ associated with Adora. Not only that, but had the audacity to perceive Catra and Adora as exes. She wanted to laugh at the thought. As if their former relationship wasn't already complicated enough.

Again, Catra didn't believe in fate but.. karma had one hell of a bite.

Similarly, the blonde could hardly get Catra's return out of her head. She was biking down tenth street in a desperate attempt to clear her mind, to make sense of her nagging thoughts. It was obvious something wasn't adding up— sure, Catra had always been reserved, challenged in someways, but she wasn't one to push Adora out. Not physically, anyway. Parking her bike by a gymnasium by her favorite coffee shop, she unlocked her phone and scrolled to her contacts list. She idly wondered if Catra had changed her number since high school.

Would it be so wrong to want to reconnect? Obviously, Catra hadn't taken their reunion so lightly, and Adora was no idiot to see as clear as day Catra had little interest in catching up. It had been a really really long time after all, and.. Adora wouldn't go so far to say she was even a part of Catra's life anymore. They had left off that way anyway. She wanted to be there for her, just as she once was, like she should've been during her dispatch...

But Catra, she was a special case. No matter how hard Adora would try to talk to her, to be there, she knows Catra would close herself off. It had taken years and years of buildup, growing up together and experiencing everything side by side, _telling each other everything—_ to gain Catra's trust. And then she'd gone and shattered it like it was worthless. So it would take more than a miracle to do so a second time.

As she exited the coffee shop, chai tea in hand to calm her confusing thoughts, three people exited the gym from across the street. Her eyes wandered and the first she recognized as Entrapta— former tech genius at F'Zone high. Followed closely behind and pushing her wheelchair was Scorpia— Adora didn't know her all that well, only by association through Entrapta, her former schoolmate. Though she almost idolized them on how well they managed to keep their heads up in the face of the world crashing down on them. She'd heard about their condition some time ago and how they'd been released early due to some crippling injuries. Adora couldn't help but feel a strange static crawl across her body as she noticed the third, being none other than her former run in today.

_Catra_. Why was Catra..

Before she had even a moment to think, her legs were already moving. She moved so fast that her tea sloshed from the cup, but she gave little mind to it as she neared the trio.

Catra's head lifted in her direction, not doubt stunningly. Dark hair ran like a river down her shoulders, curling at the ends of every strand. Her blue and gold eyes which had constantly hindered her since childhood stood bright against the shadows that surrounded her, no less beautiful than before. Though now they held a hint of resentment, all understandable. She was full of razored edges and sharpened features that fit the owner so indescribably well— though the scowl Catra gifted her was definitely new.

"Catra? What—"

A sharp response. "Ugh, what do _you_ what?”

The blonde swallowed hard. What had she expected, anyway? "Can.. can we talk?" Adora couldn't help the wavering of her voice, feeling small as her hand tightened around her cup a bit too hard.

Her heterochromic eyes seemed to burn a message into her face— a sharp no. Instead, she said, "What do you want, Adora? An apology? _Closure_?"

"No, but I'm—" Adora paused, faltering over her words. She'd probably forgotten how hard it was to have any sort of concern for Catra. She shouldn't have expected any less, especially since their disaster of a run in this morning. She rubbed at her face. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm just.. worried about you."

She was completely right, she didn't. She didn't deserve the kindness or compassion Adora compulsively offered. She didn't deserve to be worried about. In fact, she wasn’t about to forget that Adora hadn't even been there to sit and worry about her for half a decade. She didn't need her then, and she certainly didn't need her now. (That was what her head screamed, anyway.) Catra wanted with every fiber to say something along those lines, but she decidedly held her tongue.

"I just.. wanted to make sure you're okay. It's been a long time, that's all." Adora found her shoelaces very interesting in this moment, suddenly feeling embarrassed she had even walked over. At this point Entrapta and Scorpia had retreated to a red Jeep across the parking lot, leaving only the two ex-best friends alone in the street.

"Yeah. It sure has." Catra seemed to roll her eyes with her words alone. "Anything else?"

"I just—" Eyes trailing down, whatever words Adora had been planning to say had suddenly dissolved as she caught sight of a certain metal commodity, a shining glint from Catra's ankle,

"What happened to your..." eyes widening, Adora caught her tongue as she finally realized what was going on.

Well, _shit_. Things just got a lot more complicated.


	2. repurcussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora can’t get Catra’s return out of her mind. Meanwhile, Catra is doing everything in her power to forget about their encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// child abuse, post traumatic stress

The rebel base was, in short, nothing more than shambles.

It was far from a proper installment, maybe even before it was distressed by the war. The lights didn't work worth a damn and there was little room to move. Wisps of wind weaved through the holes that had bored themselves into the structure, wild and unpredictable. Catra felt like the cracked and groaning plaster walls were closing in around her as she scouted it.

No bigger than a small restaurant, it still served its purpose of a discreet presence well. Despite its aged emptiness it still looked recently occupied, dishes and blankets scattered across the premises. It was decently decorated like a proper living situation may be. Though the dust and ash that had overtaken it certainly made it much less appealing.  
  


It still could’ve been days since it was last occupied. Hours, even. They couldn’t afford to drop their guard because of a little dust.

"Scorpia?" Catra questioned the taller girl behind her, eyes scouring the rubble at her feet. She was dressed in a steel grey leather vest and crimson combat pants, adorning a bright green pin at her breast. It demonstrated that she was no longer a mere cadet but could be behind the orders rather than mindlessly following them. As she knelt down, she grasped a smashed device between her fingertips, examining it closely. Looked to be a handheld sonar system.

"Yes, Catra?" Her squadmate called back.

The lights flickered ominously— a warning. The air felt thick, like stone. Catra gripped her clipboard tightly as she spoke, "We need a couple roundabouts. Make sure this place is secured before we bring anyone else in."

"Got it, Force Captain." Scorpia scampered away. Despite being the girl’s superior, Catra felt as if she wouldn’t rather have anyone else out in this damn bullshit than Scorpia. Maybe even consider her a friend. 

  
She couldn’t say that about just anyone. Suppose she wasn’t one for friendships, anyway. In the past they’d only torn her vulnerable heart apart— and considering nowadays she had little time for personal relationships. She had a job to do. People to protect. 

It was cold in Jandice, an abandoned rebellion base a couple of miles out from their next siege. Catra and her assailants were instructed to scout the place out for any further use. As Catra trudged through the rubble, there was little left to salvage. Just the bite of the cold air that brought goosebumps up her arm, her bristling fur and latex jacket doing little to protect her. Her combat boots crunched in the bits of snow that had blown its way inside the abandoned base.

She brought her com up to her mouth after about fifteen minutes, "Scorpia? Update."

Silence on the other end, which was hardly expected. Scorpia always responded swiftly and without fail— Catra couldn't help how her heartbeat escalated in worry. There was no guarantee this area was safe. They knew what they were getting into when they were assigned the mission, and knew what bloody extent the rebels were willing to go to conquer the Northern Reach. It was bad enough they'd had to keep up this dangerous charade the past couple of months.

And that only made her all the more nervous. She tried again, save waiting a couple moments. "Scorpia..?"

She felt a strange burst of wind crawl up her neck, and her fur stood on end. Something wasn't right. She tightened her grip on her handgun and pulled it out of her waistband, her muscles tensing in worry.

_Something wasn't—-_

"Catra!" The voice on the com interrupted her escalating anxiousness. _Thank god_ , she swallowed hard, feeling herself start to relax a bit. Though she hadn't missed the urgency in Scorpia's voice.

"Scorpia?" The pitch of her voice drew higher, and she lowered the firearm to her side, "What's your status?" A bright light crackled through the window to her left. As soon as these words left her lips, she was robbed of her balance as the room shook with viciousness, shattering the emergency lights that hung from above. She fell to the ground knees first, clutching her com tightly. Shards of glass surrounded her in a nimble ring. _What in the fuck was that?_ Before she even could think to regain her stance, a trembling explosion rippled in the distance. Catra's eyes widened as static dripped from her com, Scorpia's voice barely coming through—

"C-tra! Get do—"

" _Catra_!"

A slow blink of heterochromic eyes brought Catra back to reality, as well as a soft claw finding its place on her shoulder.

"Catra? You okay?" She met big and concerned brown orbs, as Scorpia gripped her shoulder tenderly. Catra hissed and swiped Scorpia's hand away, crossing her arms in defiance. Seems all too often she got lost in her own daydreams— her scalding night _terrors_.

Even with a lot on her mind, she still couldn't expel these invasive memories which plagued her endlessly. She wondered if Scorpia could see right through her. She'd gotten the worst of it, after all. 

Even with a lack of proper response, Scorpia sat beside her on their shared couch, keeping considerable distance. When Catra had these episodes, despite Scorpia’s physical outlet for affection she wasn't very touchy. Simply.. respecting of Catra’s space. “You just.. you have that look." Scorpia sighed. "The one where you're thinking. But.. not of your own accord."

A blazing image of the past, the incident, it turned the gears in her head into a cloudy and buffered image where she couldn't even stay anchored in her own reality. Scorpia probably knew this better than anyone. And the more Catra’s present life began to take her over, the more the past desperately tried to push through.

"It's not that, Scorpia." It really wasn't. This had become too frequent for her to care, anymore. There were more.. present matters that were bugging her. That same stupid nightmare wasn’t the reason for the sweat forming at her brow, the fear pouring from shaking her form. 

Scorpia seemed to guess what the problem was, almost instantly. She knew the catgirl too well. And she certainly hadn’t missed what happened back at the gym.

"It's just— you've told us a lot about you two in the past. Are you.. okay?" Scorpia tried again, eyes softening.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?!" Catra said, a bit more intensely than she had liked. She felt her claws dig into the fabric of the couch, and Scorpia raised an eyebrow at her. Damn her for her unbridled outbursts.

She had nearly forgotten Entrapta and Scorpia had witnessed their little incident back by the gym. It was as humiliating as it was horrible circumstance- her roommates certainly weren't going to keep their mouths shut about it. They cared far too much. Suppose she should feel lucky that they did— her burning face begged otherwise. 

"I'm fine.. really. It's just..." _it's been a lifetime, and.. everything has been going to hell recently. I don't know what to say, what to do—_ "This is a bad time."

Of course she'd thought about Adora— _all the time,_ really. Growing up alongside someone you had a clear endearment for tended to have that effect on you. But recently she'd found herself more disconnected form reality than ever. She had a lot on her plate, and unwillingly scouring her unresolved trauma from years ago was the last thing she needed to do. And she’d said what the solution was long ago anyway, right? Stay away from her.

More importantly, there was more physical-based matter to pay close attention to now. If she couldn't learn to walk properly, this could inconvenience her for the rest of her life. She was finally getting the inspiration to get up and fix her fuckup of a life, to attend that stupid physical therapy bullshit— and any more untimely distractions could prove to be deadly. There was no room for Adora in this process, that much was true.

She'd made that very clear in her reaction to seeing her.. _situation_ last night.

Adora’s words echoed through her skillful ears, “What happened to your...?"

Catra had almost forgotten where she was. She was in tense territory, standing right in front of a place where she felt more vulnerable than anytime else. She felt like there was a bright red target not only pinned between her eyes, but another twelve on her gleaming leg. And here Adora was, unfailingly managing to butt in. To make the void Catra felt in her gut somehow expand tenfold.

Catra wondered if she'd ever been so still before— so frozen in _fear_ , not to mention in the face of judgement of her former best friend. Adora's empty gaze burning every inch of her skin.

The words felt hollow in her mouth. Just like everyone else, Adora gave her that look. Her eyes hooded in confusion as well as pain, managing to _god knows how_ act as if she gave two damns about Catra's condition. After knowing Catra for so long, she should at least know that the last thing she'd ever want is someone's pity.

"Stop that. Stop.. _looking_ at it." Catra tried everything in her power to muffle the whimper crawling up her chest. But it was a ruthless internal battle that she knew she'd inevitably lose. Fists clenching at her sides, eye contact was no easy luxury.

Adora ripped her own eyes away, directing a shameful gaze at the ground, "Catra...."

Adora hadn't meant for things to go this way— really and truly, she just wanted to greet Catra. Check on her. Make sure things were going okay. Truth be told, ever since hearing that Catra had moved to Brightmoon, Adora had tortured herself with the prospect of at least greeting her once. Turns out one time wasn't enough. Now, she had formulated a new agenda— after seeing how things had been left off, she wanted to try her best to make things right. And if that meant ultimately staying away, that was fine. She wanted nothing more than to ease the psychological burden she may have caused, after all.

But she _surely_ hadn't expected to see the sight before her— her former best friend, a hard expression of shambles, a silver glint of light taking the place of her right leg. Not in a million years. But suppose it had made sense, considering Catra's early release. Her new set of companions..

Feeling tears threaten her every aching thought, Catra couldn't bare to face her. All kinds of anger rose into her chest. The one person she always vowed she'd be strong for, seeing her at her most vulnerable— her most physically challenged. And she couldn’t even bother to say a single word. She felt pathetic. She couldn't be here, and most of all, she couldn't handle letting Adora even dip her toes back into her shithole life. Not after everything that had happened.

Maybe that was stupid. That she still cared what Adora thought of her— that she didn’t want to be seen as who she truly was. Time had kept them a apart for so long and yet.. the urge to run, to hide.. it was overwhelming. 

Still, no words formed upon Adora's lips as Catra did just that and _ran_ , ran to the best of her ability, abandoning whatever mortifying exchange that was to come. Vowing there would never be another.

==================

That night she thought about how Adora had gazed fixedly. That same guilty expression she’d been burdened with carrying ever since the foster home.

" _Catra_!" A small voice giggled, dragging her hand throughout their former home, disregarding others around them and pushing through adjacent obstacles. The warmth of their palm bringing evanescent peace to Catra’s stormy thoughts. “Come on! Let’s get outside.. I think it’s gonna rain.”

She stopped and turned toward Catra, hand still holding Catra’s beneath hers tightly. She offered her a painfully bright smile, one that encouraged Catra’s own toothless grin. Even at ten years old their combined mischievousness was was truly hard to combat. They were hard to separate, after all— Catra and Adora were best friends that had surely made their mark in Weaver’s foster home for the seventeen years they’d resided there.

“Race you.” Catra muttered, yellow eye glinting with a hint of competition that she knew her companion surely wouldn’t refuse.

Adora didn’t even give a reply as she yanked her hand from Catra’s, not wasting a second to earn herself a headstart. She was no competition to Catra’s lean figure, after all. She would need all the advantage she could get.

Ear twitching in annoyance, Catra struggled to catch up. As they neared the back door, shoving through the endless corridors, it was clear Adora was going to emerge victorious as she stepped through the door to go outside.

Catra saw the beaming light trickling from outside in sight and decided losing wasn’t so bad so long as she could go out and exercise a bit of rare freedom. Her smile was shattered as her foster mother stepped in front of her, and she stopped dead in her tracks, nearly falling from the speed at which she had been traveling.

Weaver slammed the door shut behind her, creating a blockade between Catra and her best and _only_ friend. It was, after all, one of Shadow Weaver's specialities— keeping her prized student away from distractions. Skillfully separated from.. _disappointments_. The room seemed to darken in the aftermath, the light disappearing and leaving only her inclement foster mother in her path.

" _Not you_." The witch hissed, Catra feeling her ears pin tight to the back of her head. She should've known that she wasn’t going anywhere. It had been weeks since she’d last properly seen the light, after all. “In order to be rewarded, you must keep your studies up. Like Adora."

"But Mrs Weaver it's—"

"Not _fair_?" She managed a snort at this, dark and tall figure approaching Catra, and suddenly space had become scarce as the catgirl felt herself become pressed against the wall. "I'd think even an imbecilic creature like you would realize by now, in the real world, there is no _fairness_."

Her voice took a softer tone. At some point in Catra's fear and blatant discrimination, Weaver always managed to turn the mood of the conversation. "Don't you see? I'm only trying to help you, Catra. In the future, your superiors may not be quite as merciful as your dear mother. So, why don’t you go to your room and keep studying?”

Catra scampered to her room angrily on all fours and dove into her shared cot like a bullet, burying herself into the blanket. Feeling a sob crawl up her chest. She only wished she'd been allowed the leisure the other kids dove freely in— with their spotless report cards and perfect grades. And _Adora_. She'd been the golden child for as long as Catra could remember. It was a nothing short of a curse that she’d clung so tightly to the one girl Shadow Weaver couldn’t stand for her to be around.

Catra's childhood was full of nothing but comparisons. It didn't help that she and Adora were closer than anyone else in that wretched foster home, and the blonde had always been Mrs Weaver's protege... which left plenty of background discrimination for Catra. Her foster mother had not only a vendetta against hybrids but a strong hatred for failure, which Catra was nose deep in thanks to her own set of problems. It made her bare her fangs in anger and squeeze the pillow below her until it tore to pieces. How could a woman be so spiteful, so blatantly manipulative?

What kind of cruel god would make her this way in the face of unmoving opposition, knowing she was only doomed to suffer?

A knock on the window beside her bedframe caused her to jump out of her fur. She pulled herself out of the blanket, eyes wide. A soft smile greeted her on the other side of the window— _Adora_.

Adora, the only person she could stand in their crumbling foster home. The only person she could truly admit she cared for. Waiting patiently for Catra to open to window, adorning a goofy smile that never failed to accelerate Catra's heartbeat. As she did often, Adora snuck off from recess in order to hang out with Catra. The catgirl couldn't ask for a better friend as the void in her chest momentarily dissipated.

She turned the lock and tucked her fingers under the windowsill, prying it open. Adora clambered inside, "Hi cat!—" Before her eyes fell upon Catra's tearstained cheeks and grave posture, "- _woah_. What's wrong? What happened?" Small fingers gripped at her shoulders, concerned blue orbs tearing into Catra's own.

Catra's ear twitched as Adora slowly realized the problem. The crease between her eyes began to form in uncontrollable concern, and she grabbed Catra's hand and held it in her own. "Catra..."

"Forget it, Adora. I'm fine." She dismissed, jerking her hand away and rubbing her arm nervously. She fought back against the lash of her tail as Adora looked a bit more saddened than Catra would like.

"Catra... did Mrs Weaver hurt you?" The gaze of guilt Adora provided her was so incredibly painful the catgirl had to turn her eyes to the wall. This was never Adora’s fault, nor her job to fix. Catra hated the pity more than anything, but knew it would dissolve over time.

"She.. she didn't." Catra muttered. Not physically, anyway. She was grateful for that much. "She just.. she's always saying I'm not good enough." Catra knew she could trust Adora with anything; they knew everything about each other, protected each other. Adora would never judge Catra, after all.

"That's not true, Catra.” Not a trace of hesitation could be found in Adora’s voice. “You're the _best_. You know that, right?"

She lets herself take a bite of that praise. It was nothing short of an addiction which kept her alive— in her entire life, nobody believed in her. No one told her how well she was doing, how terribly strong she was for enduring hell and back. As much as the praise made her feel a shard of hope in her soul plagued with starvation, a voice in the back of her mind fought against it. Reassuring herself Adora doesn't mean it. Regardless, it’s still so bright it momentarily calms her fears and destroys her unbearable insecurities. And all because of Adora.

Her silence didn't deter her companion.

"Even if you don't know that.. I do. That's why you're my best friend." Adora said.

Catra whimpered and collapses into Adora's arms, chest heaving. Adora accepts the embrace and strokes her hair softly. “You’re my best friend, too.” This was old news to the both of them, but hearing the reassurance that it was them against the world was almost therapeutic. The soft purrs rumbling in Catra's chest seemed to resemble an unspoken _thank you_ , a debt to Adora she'd never be able to pay. Adora's tendency to stick around kept Catra's head up. It always had.

"Do you want to study together?" Adora questioned, smiling.

"Yeah." Somehow, it seemed much less torturous when Adora said it. When they did it together. When the two sat on their cot, Catra tucked under Adora's arm while she read the textbook to the catgirl, the words on the page seemed to form in Catra's mind effortlessly.

Adora reading over that stupid map for her some years later was but a cruel reminder of Catra’s former dependence on the blonde. And she couldn’t fucking stand it.

=====================

  
Adora was running, not literally— but her thoughts were on their seventeenth marathon as she made her way back to campus.

The second Catra had emerged from that gym, Adora's mind had been a blur. _Seahawk's gym_. A physical therapy hotspot occupied by crippled veterans looking to heal. Accompanied by two dishonorably discharged former high school friends; Scorpia and Entrapta, was Catra. She should've guessed and used her damned brain and basic context clues— to be perfectly honest, she shouldn't have brought it up at all. _Stupid_. She couldn’t stop chastising herself in the aftermath of what she’d let slip. How could she be so.. insensitive?

So much for makings things right. 

She knew that Catra loathed her after all this time, and even worse was how she'd unintentionally put her on the spot. That had always been an intense trigger for the catgirl, so what kind of asshole was Adora to butt her head into Catra's business? It was like Catra had said- it wasn't her problem anymore.

But... it didn't mean she couldn't ask questions and worry about Catra from behind the scenes, right? " _Sea Hawk_!"

The therapist stopped in his tracks as Adora spotted him on campus, turning to face her. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and he swallowed expectantly. “Oh, h-hey Adora! I was just looking for my darling mermista.. have you perhaps seen her..?"

"Seth. Why didn’t you tell me?" Adora crossed her arms.

"Tell you what?" He shrugged, laughing awkwardly.

"About _Catra_."

Seahawk’s skin prickled in fear. Adora was no amateur at shooting off terrifying glares,

“Oh well, heh. I didn't think it was important?"

".. _Seth_!" Adora drawled,

"What?! Adora, you know I can't just go blabbering about my clients to whoever is asking. Confidentiality, you hear?" Seahawk huffed.

"You could've at least mentioned she was missing a goddamn leg—"

"Listen, Adora. The girl seems like she's been through hell and back. Maybe just.. give her some space?" Coming from a fellow amputee, Seahawk understood Catra's standoffish attitude when it came to her situation. And, based on her general reaction to him bringing up their past relationship, it was nothing short of a touchy subject. "Plus, she didn't seem too overjoyed when I mentioned you."

"She.. talked about _me_?" Adora seemed to brighten. That was certainly a step up from pretending she didn’t even exist. Did that mean she’d thought about her? Maybe even as much as Adora had thought about her during her prolonged absence.. 

Seahawk rubbed at his face in regret. "Ugh. I've already said too much. Anyway, I've got a meeting with the board in ten minutes. Don't go doing anything stupid, okay?" Seahawk scampered away, leaving Adora with even more questions than before.

But only one answer. She had to see Catra, and had to apologize.

===================

Finding Catra’s address was no easy task, but with a bit of prying, she’d gotten her hands on it. She lived in a large apartment complex only a few miles away from Seahawk’s gym. It was fairly nice, maybe nicer than Adora’s apartment even despite her wealthy roomates. As she knocked on her door, she silently prayed a roommate of some sort wouldn’t answer.

Catra blinked in disbelief upon opening the door. No way in _hell_ Adora had dared to show up on her doorstep. In her own shock, she didn’t even question how she may have figured out where she now lived.

“Adora? What the hell are you doing here?” The annoyance in her voice was clear, and it tore at Adora’s confidence she’d brought with her.

“Catra” she frowned at the sight of her former friend, “I just.. I wanted to apologize for how I reacted the other day." It was true; she had been insensitive to what Catra had been going through, lost in her own mission of reconnection. Not even considering Catra’s feelings. What kind of friend (er, what were they, anyway) was she, then?

"Whatever, Adora. Everyone reacts the same." She shrugged on her jacket as if she was just about to leave, almost ignoring the blonde. Though she seemed to glare indefinitely- _I was just hoping you wouldn't_.

Adora huffed at Catra’s deflections.

“No— not whatever, Catra, I was a complete asshole. How can I make it up to you?” It was a statement of reconciliation, obviously. Maybe even a proposition of a future encounter. Catra ignored how the mere possibility made her stomach churn.

That she could not allow. A laugh ripped from Catra’s throat. “Oh, Adora,” she couldn’t hold the words back, no matter how hard she tried, “I think you’ve done quite enough.”

The statement was meant to hurt her, clearly. Destroy any semblance of hope the blonde clung to— the stupid frown on Adora’s face proved just as much. Adora couldn’t stand not being able to prove herself, and Catra knew this. Made use of it. She was no stranger to her own misfortune, and projecting it onto others was child’s play.

"What, did you think us meeting up was meant to be? Fate?" The catgirl sneered, laughter an eerie testament. It proved the worst of Adora’s fears. Had Catra really been keen on staying away... really and truly moved on?

"I haven't forgotten, Adora." Catra scoffed, turning away from the Adora's defeated expression. It wouldn’t phase her that way. “As much as I hate to admit it, shit’s only hit the fan since that night."

"And this," she gestured to her metallic leg, now no longer much of a secret, "This isn't even the worst of it." She shook her head, and the pain and trauma that had followed her throughout those crippling years seemed to flare through her eyes. Adora could only watch helplessly. What could she say to that? It was obvious this stretched far past the physical.

“I just miss you, Cat. I want to be there for you.” She blurted, not caring if she was coming on way too strong for an ‘old friend.’ She couldn’t help it.

“I think it’s a bit too late for that.” Catra scoffed, her stubborn nature taking hold. She then glared at Adora’s usage of her childhood nickname, “And don’t you dare call me that. _Ever_ again.”

As Adora was left still in her tracks, Catra could only shake her head in disbelief. The blonde couldn’t trace even a hint of care in her expression as the catgirl proclaimed, “Bye, Adora." And it seemed like this time she really meant it when the door slammed in her former companion’s face.

Catra wondered if Adora had ever felt that feeling like she had from Mrs Weaver, her commanding officers, from everyone she’d ever tried to prove herself for. From _her_. That feeling of blatant rejection, helplessness in the face of an empty yearning. She hoped she’d proved just as much.


	3. like old times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra finds out that things with Adora really haven’t changed, all things considered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tws// underage drinking, overdrinking, attempted sexual assault

Come junior year of high school, Adora and Catra were a set of names spoken together more often than not. Ever since their well-known escapades of defiance first began it was no secret the two were inseparable, even in their shared mischief. And even despite Adora's damn near spotless record in the face of her foster mother's cruel judgement and attempts at control, Catra had always been a consistent fallback to her stainless lifestyle. Not to mention a bad influence.

Catra's convertible pulled up beside Adora on her way to school. It was terribly old, red paint chipped and license plate hanging by a thread. Adora had never seen anything quite like it but her friend loved the damn thing. Catra had worked her ass off at the street corner food mart to get her claws on it from her neighbor, though, and Adora was envious she'd even had the time to get a job and save for it.Luckily, having a car came a new agenda— a new burst of freedom. This was clear as Adora made her way to her last class of the day, abruptly stopped by Catra's afternoon appearance. The catgirl couldn't stifle her laugh, "Okay. Get in."

"Why?" Adora clutched her set of textbooks toward her chest in defense, an eyebrow raised, and Catra wondered if she could possibly look any more innocent. She'd kept up her little miss perfect act for this long, after all. Catra couldn't help how her skin itched at the thought of changing that.

"Why not?" She countered, her sunglasses sliding down the bridge of her nose to showcase her multicolored eyes. Eyebrows raised to match her deafening smirk. "Scared you'll challenge your perfect little status?"

Skipping school to accompany the school miscreant, who was not to mention dressed in nothing short of a _leather getup_ — it was such a painful cliche Adora wondered how she managed to so closely befriend such a spontaneous person. Not to mention how convincing she (unfailingly) proved to be.

"Mmm.." The blonde pressed her lips together, eyes rolling, "Okay, fine." She sighed, giving in much easier than the catgirl had expected. Catra couldn't help but grin as Adora claimed shotgun as her own, arm sliding over the side of her convertible.

"Where are we going?" Adora thought absentmindedly, the wind catching her hair. She tried not to dwell too much on the fact that she was skipping her final class of the day, ignoring the fears of her foster mother's reaction upon finding out swelling in her mind. She closed her eyes and drowned herself in the relaxing feeling of the breeze on her pale skin.

Catra kept her eyes on the road and the emotion hidden from her voice. "It's a suprise."

Adora blinked at that— Catra was usually more straightforward in her escapades, and Adora began to worry. She wasn't one to enjoy being left in the dark and hung on the edge of her seat. Instead of questioning it, she kept her lips sealed and assured herself that she could trust in her best friend, whatever the case may be.

However, what she hadn’t expected was her friend parking at what looked to Adora to be a sketchy club. People crowded the outside in a neat line, music booming softy from inside. Adora could only stare in disbelief. 

"A bar?" Adora blinked. "Catra, we're seventeen."

"And? You look like a lame, older sibling and I have a fake ID."

Adora rolled her eyes at the remark.

The duo approached the bouncer by the door, who had his arms crossed over his chest. Shades cast over his eyes and his stern expression incited Adora to sweat bullets. Catra, on the other hand, didn't seem to be worried as she dragged Adora by the hand toward the large man absentmindedly. The two of sauntered past him without even a flash of Catra's ID, skipping the entire line. "Hmph," Adora snorted in disbelief. "So much for the fake ID."

"Better safe than sorry. He doesn't work every day." Catra retorted, shrugging.

"Seems like you have a lot more connections than I thought," Adora noted as Catra and the bouncer shared a brief nod, the two stepping inside the bar.

"Perks of sneaking out?" Catra laughed, twirling her set of keys in her right hand, "You meet other delinquents."

Adora knew Catra wasn't anything close to a delinquent. Her ability to see right through Catra's repulsive nature was hers alone to enjoy. Her rebellious track record was undeniable, sure— but Catra would never go as far as do anything remotely bad to anyone else. It was one hell of a facade, though. Catra usually just settled along the lines of.. self destruction.

Adora, on the other hand, couldn't imagine even _thinking about_ something as simple as sneaking out. While things like that may have seemed like child's play to Catra, Weaver kept a close eye on her around the clock. Her only hope of not being punished by Weaver for this offense was that her foster mother was out and about on unidentified 'business,' as she called it. Their cleaner had been left in charge, and he was hardly much of of an enforcer. He wouldn't even notice the two were gone.

"Ever had a beer?" Catra interrupted her thoughts as she ordered a bottle of something foreign to Adora.

"I have not—"

"Ha! Just kidding. I know." Catra shoved the bottle at Adora, laughing. The blonde's face burned. She really was lame, wasn't she? I mean.. so _what_ if she'd never dabbled with substance? They were hardly of age, after all. Catra was a lot more experienced with this stuff, and the confused look on Adora's innocent face made that all the more clear. She looked down the open bottle curiously, seeing the thick liquid slosh around inside of it. The foul stench it emitted sending her stomach into uncomfortable flips.

"Come on! Try it." Catra eyed her curiously, downing a bottle of her own. "Or.. don't. No pressure here." She grinned, shrugging and throwing herself back onto the sofa that she sat on. Well, that was nice of her to give her an option.

But it was too late for consideration as she brought the bottle to her lips. It tasted faintly of cherry, with a strong metallic aftertaste that left her mouth numb. It was.. terribly _vile_. But as disgusting as it was, it left her empty body aching for more.

The expression on Adora's face made Catra chuckle. Like she’d already expected that reaction. "Here, try some vodka. Hate that shit anyway." She shoved the bottle she'd previously divulged in toward Adora, who took it hesitantly. Upon trying this one, she raised her eyebrows upon realizing it actually didn't taste half bad. It was strong, but sweet and nearly overpowering. She'd even go as far to say it was.. _really good._

"I knew we were best friends. Same excellent taste." Catra shoved Adora's shoulder, who grinned and wiped at her lip with the back of her hand. The alcohol settled in her stomach, and suddenly, everything felt lighter. The worries in the back of her mind dissipating.

It carried on like this for over an hour. Catra and Adora enjoying each other’s silence and wordless company. They passed the bottle back and forth as soft music echoed in their ears, not a single soul to bother them but the occasional nosy passerbys. They were clearly not old enough to be here, but it seemed nobody was sober nor curious enough to care. It felt.. freeing. And at some point in their shared daze, Catra glanced over at Adora in concern.

"You alright? I know you probably can't take your booze, but.. you're looking pretty out of it." Catra narrowed her eyes at her companion, poking her cheek. She'd stayed fairly sober due to the expectation of this exact thing happening.

"I'm just.. I don't know." Adora threw her head back, and the ceiling danced. "I'm so tired." Her body seemed to agree with the statement as she stretched herself across the sofa.

"You're too much of a pushover. Always too focused on the future." Catra's voice was muffled in Adora's ears but she still absorbed every word. "What about the present?" It was true- Adora was constantly blabbering about about exams, college acceptance, ecetera. Weaver had made it very clear from the beginning that in her household, there was little room for disappointment. As a result, Adora never made much time for herself.

Adora looked right at Catra, who was laughing. Maybe the catgirl was right. Maybe.. she should focus on what was right in front of her. Catra had always lived in the moment, after all, acting purely on instinct rather than someone else's agenda. And the smile on her face only further proved the upsides that could come with doing so.

"Catra..." another hour in and maybe a bottle and a half, Adora had suddenly become much too touchy for Catra's liking. She had abandoned the sofa which she sat, now taking her rightful place beside the catgirl.

"What? What's wrong with you?" Catra's ear twitched in confusion at the feeling of Adora's fingers weaving through her her curls.

"Nothing, actually. I'm feeling prettttty relaxed." Adora suddenly threw herself at her friend, wrapping her body around hers.

"Your hair... it's so pretty," she murmured thoughtlessly, taking a shameless whiff of her scent. "I've always liked it a lot.."

Catra flushed at the action, not understanding what was happening. Adora raised her eyes to meet Catra's, and she was _close_. Way too close. She didn’t know what she was saying, much less doing. 

"Adora... you're drunk." Catra murmurs the obvious. 

"But I'm in the present, like you said." She chuckled, her face nuzzling into the grey fur by Catra's ear. They hadn't done something like this since they were kids, and for some reason, it felt anything but innocent. Hot breaths caused goosebumps to rise on Catra's skin. She wouldn't lie and say she expected anything like this from Adora, and that was saying something as they were best friends, and all.

"Enough of this." Catra swallowed, trying and failing to push Adora's heavy and muscular form off herself. "...Let's go home."

"No, Catra. Can't we just stay like this?" Adora whimpered, tightening her grip on her friend. Breath ghosting over her ear, " _Please_?"

Catra's face burned at her friend's closeness, all kinds of emotions rushing to her head. Namely confusion. She muttered, unable to refuse her companion, "Okay." The catgirl squeezed her eyes shut. She'd always been weak to even the smallest of Adora's demands. She prayed she wouldn't fuck things up, knowing the alcohol was catching up to her, too.

=====================

The situation some years later would tend to mirror their late night bar raids back in high school. And every single time, Catra had been there to catch Adora without fail. Eventually, the blonde's constant pleads to get her hands on some alcohol had become a bit concerning for the catgirl, sure. But who was she to turn down the insistent demands of her best friend? I mean, so what if she had a consistent outlet for her frustrations?

This question would only stretch further into their adult lives, as Catra's phone rang in the middle of the night, and as she raised the screen toward tired eyes a number greeted her that she couldn't possibly fathom. It was well past midnight, and Catra stared at her screen in disbelief. _What the fuck could Adora possibly have to say after last night_?

Had she not made it all too clear she wasn’t interested in being part of Adora’s life anymore? Course, the thought of simply ignoring it hasn't slipped her mind. Really and truly. But Catra had always worried so fiercely about Adora and her wellbeing, even now, so it was no surprise when she answered it.

The line was silent as Catra held tongue.

"Glimmerrrr..?" The voice was nothing more than blatant static, the foreign statement making Catra blink. "Can you.. can you pick me up? S'a nice man offered me a ride but.. I-I don't want to trouble him. I'm at *hic* sixth street." _Fucking bitch_. So that's what this was, then? Adora had gotten herself shitfaced and thought she was calling her friend, when really she'd called Catra. Only Adora could be so careless. So out of it.

Catra could've easily revealed herself to Adora, reminding her they weren't friends. That Catra wouldn't be there to clean up Adora's messes anymore. But, upon hearing of the presence of a "nice man," the catgirl couldn't control her unbridled concern as she threw on some clothes, telling Adora, "I'm on my way. Don't go anywhere."

The streets were empty, leaving Catra with plenty of room to speed. Her eyes scanned for cops who caught fuckers like her late at night but it was the least of her worries. Sixth street wasn't far from her apartment but it was certainly far enough for something to happen. Catra couldn't control how her heartbeat pounded in her ears when she parked, not even bothering to lock her car as she stormed inside a bar foreign to her.

Upon stepping inside, it was clear they were close to closing what with how empty the place was. The only inhabitant being the bartender who was cleaning glasses at a sink in the front. Catra asked him if he'd seen anyone, and he pointed to a backdoor leading to an alley. Her heart leapt in indescribable fear.

She shoved the backdoor open. Already her eyes took in a horrifying sight. A stranger stood over Adora, who was pinned to the alley wall, clearly completely out of it as her head hung toward the floor. Darkness overcast the two in what was a clear attempt at a ill-consented sexual encounter. With her ex best friend no less.

"Hey, asshole!" Catra growled, shoving the man off her without a second thought, "The hell do you think you’re doing?!?"

"Who the fuck are you?" He looked beyond pissed, but his scowl and unbridled anger could nowhere near rival Catra's. She gave him another shove, and this time, his back crunched against the wall behind him, _hard_.

"Her _girlfriend_ ," the words slipped past her lips before she had time to properly consider them, "If you don't get out of my sight right now, I'll introduce you to my sharp little friend." She hissed as her hands tightened on her key ring, every word a heavy promise. The poison dripped from her lips as her heartbeat thumped in her ears, not wanting to admit to the intense fear she was drowning in. If he really tried, he could probably beat the shit out of Catra. She only prayed he was too drunk to swing— but, either way, she wasn't touch to let him touch a single hair on Adora before going down fighting.

He seemed to think it over for a moment, lips parting to speak before shaking his head and pushing past her. Wisely deciding it wasn’t worth it. 

Catra immediately rushed toward Adora, who was having trouble keeping her balance. She was propped against the wall rather lazily, eyes downturned in undoubtable exhaustion. Catra caught her in her arms— _gods, she's fucking heavy._ Seems not much had changed in the muscle department.

"Catraaa..." she slurred, "That nice man was going to take me home!"

"To home base, maybe," she growled, eyes widening as she realized exactly how bad this was, "Holy _fuck_ you're wasted." Catra waved her clawed hand in front of Adora's low-lidded eyes, and no response came. She just stared at the ceiling emptily, sprawled across a sofa chair. Catra almost vomited at the sight of bite marks on her collarbone, thanking any god from above that she'd made it before things had escalated any further. Sure, she’d been on the other hand of many drunken nights with Adora in the past, but never quite to this concerning extent.

Catra managed to drag Adora to the car with her arms wrapped around her shoulders after very fiercely scolding the bartender, who was completely oblivious to what had been going on. She gave him the middle finger before shoving Adora into the backseat as best she could.

She wouldn't lie, the sight was pathetic. As much as she'd grown and matured, landing a steady living for herself— here she was looking no better than the worst of their high school days. Catra idly wondered if this sort of self abuse had continued consistently into her adult years. She tried not to dwell on the thought too much as she buckled herself into the front seat, sighing. She gripped the wheel in a mix of emotions.

"What's wrong with you, Adora?" Catra muttered, glancing at her in the rearview mirror, "...This stupid shit isn't worth it anymore."

She was completely collapsed in the backseat, no doubt unconscious. Catra felt her stomach become compromised at the unsettling sight. She couldn't begin to imagine where Adora would be if she hadn't come so urgently..

"Don't you know I'm supposed to be the delinquent?" Her own words from their teenage years echoed through her ears, frown tugging at her lips. As much as she hated Adora and everything she'd done, it was clear that whatever alcohol addiction Adora had developed was probably her fault. She couldn't help but feel an overall obligation towards Adora's state due to past events. Her knuckes tightened on the wheel.

Why had she even called Catra? Obviously, she wasn't saying her name in the call.. someone named Sparkles, or something. But some would say a drunken mind was much more insightful than a sober one. Catra tried not to dwell on the thought for too long before she realized she had no idea where Adora lived.

Slumping in her seat and squeezing her eyes shut, she muttered, "Fuck."

Adora sure as hell wasn't staying at her place. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to her, much less risk her own roommates freaking out. Or to have to explain things in the morning— she'd been doing a horrible job of giving Adora the cold shoulder, that much was for sure. Not to mention Catra wouldn't be surprised if the police showed up at her house guns blazing to rescue Adora. In a panic she decided on pulling over and stepping out of the car, opening the passenger door.

"Sorry, Adora," she said as she sifted through her pockets, trying hard to avoid touching Adora in any way. Averting her gaze shamefully, she finally found her phone in her back pocket. The screen was cracked down the middle (Adora was always _devastatingly_ clumsy) but she could faintly make out a text from someone named Glimmer.

**_Adora? Bow and I are worried about you. You okay_**?

Of course Adora had stupid friends who cared about her. And _of course_ her phone had a password. A six digit one, at that.

What the fuck could her password be? She sat on the thought for a while, until she thought of a possibly. Her face burned shamefully at the mere suggestion within her mind. Hesitantly, Catra typed in her birthdate. It was the same password Adora had used ever since they were kids.

Adora's unlocked home screen stared back at Catra's dumbfounded expression. She couldn't help but feel her body spiral at the discovery.

Pushing it out of her mind, Catra fought back against her confused thoughts and navigated to Adora's contacts. She searched through the relatively small list, before stumbling on the owner of the previous text, Glimmer. She seemed sparkly enough to fit the name, what with her half-dyed hair and aesthetic college grad pose in her contact photo. She was pretty— _really_ pretty, and Catra momentarily scrutinized the possibility that this was Adora's girlfriend. She tried to ignore how long she stared at the photo before pressing the call button, bringing the phone to her ear.

" _Adora_!" An immediate response. " _You okay, babe?"_

_Babe_?Catra's eye twitched uncomfortably. Either her suspicions were correct, or they were just really close friends. "Actually, this isn't Adora. She's pretty wasted as of now and you're the last person she talked to in her contacts.. so, can you come get her?" Catra felt her throat tighten as she spoke, not quite sure how to explain herself. All she knew was she wanted to deliver the package as soon as possible, as this situation was making her spiral. Gods she could only wish she was at home in bed right now.

"Okay. Go ahead and send me her location." Catra did as she was told, navigating to Adora's maps and forwarding their location. "By the way.. who are you? Does Adora know you?" The soft voice suddenly turned accusatory on the other end of the line. It was almost pathetic how protective this girl sounded, and Catra's ear twitched in annoyance. Regardless of who she was, the girl should've been grateful that she took care of Adora whereas this girl neglected to do so.

"Uh..." Catra thought for a minute, wondering if she should even mention her name. "..Nah. Just a Good Samaritan, that's all. Let me know when you're close by."

=========

Come the next morning, Adora shot up from her bed, eyes wide. She stared at her recents in disbelief. "I called _Catra_ last night???"

Only a couple of minutes ago had she emerged from slumber, previously passed out on the cot of her shared apartment. A violent headache numbed her thoughts as she checked her phone. What she hasn't expected, of course, was to see Catra's contacts anywhere near her recents.

"Wait, really? Did she answer?" Glimmer yawned, making sure to ask the important questions as she shook Bow awake, who was snoring beside her. He murmured a couple things before rolling himself off the bed and dragging himself to the bathroom. Bow was a lot of things— but he was no morning person.

He quickly asked from the bathroom,

"Was it a booty call?"

" _Bow_!" Adora's face flushed every possible hue of red. Almost offended by the accusation.

"What? Adora, you know how you get when you're drunk." Bow shrugged, voice muffled from the toothbrush shoved in his mouth. They knew very well of her lack of a filter when faced with booze, and it was quite often that she went out and drank herself silly. Adora had a lot on her plate to worry about, after all. And it certainly didn't help that her roommates, Bow and Glimmer, were some of the most well-known partiers on campus.

_No.._ Adora stared at the screen and it seemed to stare back with equal malice, Catra's contact seeming to mock her. "She.. she answered, though." In fact, the call lasted a whopping 58 seconds, longer than any encounter Adora had with Catra thus far. The fact that she couldn't recollect even a shard of that minute was more torturous than her crippling headache. She wanted to punch herself— _what could she have possibly said?_ Nothing good, she presumed, praying she hadn't embarrassed herself any further.

"And you don't remember anything?" Glimmer seemed to assume.

"Not a thing." She clutched at her head, and her hangover started to set in. _Fuck_ , she really _had_ gone overboard last night. It started as an attempt at relaxation, as her paperwork was getting the worst of her. And it didn't help that she was suddenly faced by the prospect of failing Catra...

"Wait, who's Catra again?" Bow said, looking confused. Head peeking out from the bathroom door.

Glimmer rolled her eyes, as if to wordlessly say _we've been over this_. "You know.. that one girl with the fuzzy ears that Adora never shuts up about? Her ex bestie she's still hopelessly in love with?"

Glimmer earned a pillow chucked right at her face, which Adora had thrown a bit harder than she'd meant. Her face was scarlet as ever at the remark,

"I-I'm not in love with her!" She blurted, suddenly becoming immensely defensive, especially the comment about Catra's ears. It was a low blow for them to come after her fascination like that.

Bow ignored the comment from the bathroom, managing a laugh. "Oh, _that_ Catra!" Maybe it _was_ a booty call! I mean, you did say she was hot, right?"

_Beautiful_. Adora corrected within her mind, not one to use such empty words to describe someone. Especially Catra, who wasn't just anyone. Her humiliation was still imminent as she shoved her face into her mattress and yelled straight into it. _It wasn't a booty call.. right?!?!_

"Leave her alone, Bow. I'd rather Catra kill her than us, anyway." Glimmer said through an eyeful of mascara. Adora wondered how they could get ready so quickly, her headache disagreeing with any sudden movement.

"Oh Adora, you useless lesbian. Come here." Bow chuckled, launching himself at Adora and enrapturing her in a hug. It calmed her frustrations only momentarily. She loved her roommates with all her heart, but they were really good at getting on her nerves. _Not nearly as much as Catra, though.._.

Glimmer joined in the hug aswell. "That's weird, though. By the way, why didn't you tell me you went to *xx* last night? A nice stranger called me from your phone and I went to get you.. but you had us both worried, Adora. I mean, you were _shit-faced_ , something scary could've happened!" Glimmer said, frowning as she sat up out of bed.

"I'm sorry, Glimmer. I don't know what came over me.." Adora felt guilt grow in her stomach at the inconvenience she'd caused her friends. How she'd wasted the time of a stranger.

"And I won’t lie, Adora.. Bow and I are worried." Glimmer admitted.

"Yeah, I mean, you know Glimmer and I love to rave and all, but.. maybe try and take it easy on the alcohol a bit?" Bow said softly, shrugging. "Recently you've been more drunk than sober."

Oh, gods. They were right, weren't they? Adora hasn't tread this path since high school, and she'd followed with complete sobriety for most of her time at university. Seems it had all been in vain now, her thoughts impulsively urging a bottle into her hand.

"I'm sorry, guys. I know this shouldn't be so frequent, but.. this whole Catra thing, not to mention my grades are plummeting and it's my last year.." The sorrow in Adora's gut festered at how she'd worried her friends. How she'd deliberately been destroying herself because of her own set of problems, once again not taking their feelings into account. She sighed shamefully.

"And we understand that, 'Dora," Glimmer said, sighing. "But you know you can come to us anytime, okay? No need to drown your sorrows in booze." She squeezed her into a tight hug.

"Yeah, thank you guys." She smiled, and couldn't ask for better friends in the world.

“So.. who was this mystery stranger?” Bow asked aloud, curious. “Was she cute?”

=========•••=========

“Catra?” Scorpia questioned, rubbing her eyes and walking into the kitchen after spotting her cat-like roommate making eggs. Scrambled, as the one way she’d have them, not leaving it up to debate for her roommates. They were lucky someone in the apartment could cook to save their life. “Where were you last night?”

Catra sighed. All morning, she’d seemed keen on forgetting the whole ordeal. Seemed her prayers weren’t so easily answered. “Let's just say I had to.. babysit an old friend."

Catra really only had _one_ old friend. Her roommates were aware of this. However, the topic of Adora had always been strictly off limits. Scorpia knew this. But Catra's eyes were heavy as she stepped into their apartment well after midnight. Her expression pained as she bade goodnight to Scorpia, and as she remembered that look she knew it stretched far past the normal exhaustion Catra faced.

“Well, how’d it go?” Scorpia asked.

Catra’s phone buzzed in this moment, and as she pulled it out of her sweatpants pocket a message from Adora greeted her.

**_Was it you?_ **

The message was short and to the point, and it seemed to taunt her. She wondered if she should even give the message the time of day. After all, a text could only follow another. Catra swallowed hard as she responded,

**_Yes_**.

Catra could hardly believe the swift response that came next. Her ears burned at the mere sight of it.

**_Thank you_**.


	4. leaving a mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// post traumatic stress, panic attacks

"So, how were you and your girlfriend last night?" Lonnie stood a couple feet away from Catra at the gym courtyard, the brunette's arm crossed over her chest. Catra was hardly awake, not quite accustomed to having to wake up before the sun to come to these stupid sessions. But the speculative comment hardly missed her skillful ears.

"The fuck?" Catra shook her head, blinking in surprise, "Lonnie, you know better than anyone I don't have a girlfriend."

"I sure hope you do." She raised her eyebrows, "Saw someone passed out in the back of your car last night when I was closing." She leaned against the wall behind her, waiting expectantly for a response. Catra nearly dropped her gym bag at the remark. 

_Dear god._ Catra held back her humiliation at what the trainer was insinuating. "That was just.. ugh, you know what?" She didn't need to explain herself. Lonnie's prying was starting to get on her nerves. "It's not really any of your business anyway."

"Catra, I was just messing with you. What's got you all tied up in a knot?" Lonnie blinked. It was _just_ like her to act like they were friendly all of a sudden.

Besides the obvious? _Not only does Adora know that I was the one who helped her, but she probably thinks we're friends now, too._ And Catra was never one to fall back on promises— she told herself she'd stay away. And she was planning on it.

Adora, on the other hand? Not so good on those.

But instead, she settled with, "What's it look like?" Pointing to her leg and muttering, "Damn thing wasn't complying with me this morning. Piece of shit." She punched the cool base of her metallic prosthetic, and it only gleamed back at her in response. It wasn't a complete lie— her physical trainer was going to kill her when he saw how much she'd overexerted herself last night. She'd hardly fastened the thing correctly when she'd hurriedly retrieved Adora from that bar, and carrying around a drunken person all night certainly wasn't helping the prosthetic support her weight correctly. With every step she took it loosened, chafing her leg irritably. She'd get some serious shit from Seahawk for this.

And of course there was the outlier. There Adora went again, interfering with her life. _New life,_ she should say. She needed to get her head back in the game if she had any chance at surviving the year.

"Let me see it," Lonnie's words burst through her thoughts.

Catra felt her skin prickle at the remark. "I don't need your help," she glared, not looking forward to any kind of close contact with the girl, "You're not my trainer,"

"No, but I _was_ ," Lonnie rolled her eyes. "For a damn year, too. It wasn't easy but I know what I'm doing."

Catra stared at her through narrowed eyes. Being in any close proximity with Lonnie was probably a bad idea. Last time it had happened, well.. quite a bit of hatred had spawned from it. Rest was history.

"Do you want to pass the examination or not?" Lonnie rolled her eyes. Catra knew that if she neglected the exercises she'd been told to do, which _she always did_ — she may lose the privilege of having a trainer. There were plenty of much more willing people waiting in line to get some help. If she'd fucked things up that bad, she may as well be alone in the healing process.

"Fine. But don't go thinking this makes us friends, or anything." Catra muttered, sighing and cursing herself for reluctantly giving in.

"I won't." Lonnie promised, bending down to shuffle up Catra's pant leg. She fought the urge to flee from her gaze. Every time someone got a good look at her prosthetic, that feeling of displacement never faded.

Not to mention Catra's history with Lonnie was.. _complicated_ , to say the least. And not in the same way as Adora. Fresh off her dispatch, Catra craved quite a bit of human contact to fill her gaping void. And Lonnie, her first trainer, was willing to provide that. They'd made it very clear that it was a beneficial situation only, absolutely no feelings involved. Eventually Catra had bailed out in fear that Lonnie simply had a weird thing for legless chicks. But that was complete and utter bullshit; it was clear the real reason it had ended so soon was Catra's blatant fear of commitment, of any semblance of care. A simple agreement wasn't enough to stop it from forming.

And thus, all good things must come to an end. Catra requested a new trainer, and now, they were damn near strangers despite being forced to be around one another all the time. Not that Catra cared much; Lonnie was a good fuck, but they were complete and polar opposites. She'd assured herself there wasn't any risk of attraction— only attachment.

She pushed out the thought of Lonnie very suspiciously helping her fix up her prosthetic. (what was the ulterior motive? Catra couldn't say.) She shrugged on her jacket, fingers running through her mane in an attempt to pull it back, _who's blowing the damn AC like it's summer in hell_? She checked her watch, happily praising having about 15 minutes until her session with Seahawk. She usually arrived early, prone to distractions as well as the daily mental breakdown in her mind come her sessions. It wasn't her fault she'd never gotten accustomed to being legless, never quite fully accept it— not quite like her counterparts Scorpia and Entrapta, who wore their deformities like a crown. Catra cursed her own blazing self-consciousness and prayed it wouldn't surface any further.

A voice chided from behind her, shattering the thought, "She likes you, you know."

"The fuck?" Catra did a complete 180, turning face to face with Scorpia. "What the hell are you on about?"

"I'm just saying," the girl shrugged, "she's definetely not over what happened." She seemed to explicitly refer to Lonnie and Catra's little.. _agreement_ of the past. If it was her choice she would've kept it secret, but Scorpia has caught them in the supply closet on more than one occasion and Catra was, naturally, forced to explain herself. As shameless as it was, it was necessary.

"Scorpia, absolutely nothing happened." She growled, rubbing at her face in frustration. How hard was it for people to stray away from their feelings? No fucking way Lonnie had a thing for Catra. They hated each other, after all! They only agreed to stand their presence due to having to be stuck at this damned place together.

"It's a lot easier to catch feelings when you're not hung up on someone." Scorpia shrugged as if the words she spoke were meaningless, but they may as well been laced with poison. They violated Catra in a way she couldn't quite describe.

"I—" Catra held back her festering anger by closing her eyes and taking a few breaths in, (she wasn’t about to explode, not _here_ ,) "Either way, I don't give two shits about her. So fuck off." She didn't want to have an outburst toward her friend Scorpia, as much as she deserved it. They were on really good terms, and she wasn't willing to push it. Especially not when she was this hotheaded as of the morning.

She sauntered her way to the locker room angrily, throwing her gym bag to the ground with fervor. What the hell was that? _Hung up on someone._ Catra didn't wait around for anyone, if that's what Scorpia was insinuating. The mere accusation made her face burn in humiliation, her mind not quite as clear as she'd hoped it would be for her session. What did Scorpia know, anyway?

Later on, her session with Seahawk was as uncomfortable as ever. As overcast and meaningless as it was to just have someone try and help her, Catra couldn't help but feel pathetic. Lonnie had done a good enough job of fixing it beforehand, though Catra wouldn't acknowledge it. She was scheduled again for next week for some actual movement-based therapy. Already, her stomach churned at the thought.

She wondered whether or not Scorpia was free tonight, as she'd left earlier than normal. Usually, she'd wait outside for Catra, and they'd walk to their cars together as if they wouldn't see each other at the apartment later. But that was usually the only time Scorpia could get a word of admittance out of the catgirl. By the time they were home, she'd isolate herself to her room again. It was a habit she couldn't seem to shake. Not wanting to bother her friends with her problems— they’d already done so much for her, after all.

  
But tonight she felt like.. going out. Being anywhere but at home. Conjuring a distraction.

The universe seemed to hear her pleads as she made her way out of the gym, mind heavy with thought. It _certainly_ wasn't how she would have preferred it, however, as a familiar voice greeted her.

"Catra?" Adora stood outside the complex, hands shoved in her pant pockets. She looked about as much a puppy as ever, eyes full and achingly apologetic. Catra fought back a roll of her eyes. It was just like Adora to show up here after Catra had such a shitty and mentally draining day.

"Hey, Adora." Catra wouldn't lie and say she hadn't expected Adora's appearance this week. She wasn't one to just shut up and take favors, always thinking way too critically. Never stopping until she decided the debt was paid.

And here came the apology— Adora was so painfully predictable.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night. If I'd been in any right mind, I would've respected your decision to keep our distance." Adora was visibly nervous by her statement, "and I just wanted to.. thank you. I can't ever begin to repay you." In truth, Adora was surprised Catra hadn’t just left her to herself. After all, she had absolutely no obligation to help her. Recently they'd been.. nothing more than complete strangers. And strangers didn’t drive downtown at one am to rescue the other from a compromising situation. No, not at all.

Surprisingly enough, no sharp quips or sarcasm jumped from Catra's end. Instead, she held her gym bag tightly between her fingers and just seemed to.. listen. Something within her fought against her own destructive fervor.

She seemed to think over her words carefully, "Don't apologize so much." Catra said, "desperation doesn't suit you."

Adora hadn't expected any less of a snarky response from Catra. She fought back the smile that began to surface. She wouldn’t lie and say she hadn’t worried Catra would just book it and run; now that they were here, though, her fears slowly dissipated.

"I'm sorry if I did anything.. stupid." There it is again, the _sorry_. Escaping her lips like clockwork. Adora seemed to look down as if there were something more to say. Catra caught what she was insinuating, as Adora gestured turned toward the bite marks finding new residence on her neck. Catra felt her gut plummet at the sight of the bruises, knowing Adora had gotten the wrong idea.

"I didn't.." Catra's face burned, and she turned her head away from Adora, swallowing hard, "I'd never..."

"No no," Adora said, "that's not what I.."

"Just, forget it. It's okay." Catra huffed. Adora was way too innocent to just assume something like that, anyway. And Catra was not in a state to have her walls cracking like that. In fact, she’d rather not discuss that night at all.

"Listen," Adora broke the awkward silence with a swallow, "I just wanted to know if you wanted to grab something to eat? Just to make it up to you."

Okay, Catra certainly hadn't expected _that_. She'd expected Adora with a proposition, knowing she hadn't came all this way and waited for her to give a simple thank you and sorry. But that was so deafeningly casual of an offer that Catra's heart beat loud in her chest.

"Okay, fine." And she certainly couldn't believe the words that left her mouth. Catra's eyes narrowed at Adora's overjoyed expression. "But this doesn't mean I like you. A broke college student can't pass up a free meal, that's all."

"Whatever you say, Catra. Come on, I know a good place."

===================

Simply walking beside Catra was.. painfully nostalgic. The catgirl could feel it too, the way goosebumps found their home on her forearm. She’d remained unbothered by the sentiment however, at least in an external sense. Adora wouldn’t know what kind of vicious fight was playing out in her mind. She wasn’t sure she’d want to.

Adora also knew that it wasn't any of her business, but she couldn't help how she worried about Catra. She could trace the despair from behind her eyes, how her ears were downturned in a defensive manner. She want to be there for her— she knows that whatever hell Catra had been through in these past five years was nothing short of traumatizing. She wondered exactly how much she'd changed since the last time they'd called each other friends.

Adora had wanted to reconnect with Catra ever since hearing about her whereabouts— how she'd joined the army in a fit of rage, impulse. She hadn't forgotten about that night, constantly replaying it in her mind and wondering how she could've fucked up so badly. Even with their clear set of differences, Catra and Adora never separated for long. Their most gruesome of fights ended in apologies, sometimes unspoken, things returning to normal in the end. That was how their friendship worked, after all. They were two completely different people, going about their own way of the world— but they had each other. A commitment to stay by each other's side.

That obviously didn't happen.

And in Adora's own self resentment and regret, at the time she still couldn't quite fathom that Catra was _actually_ gone. As in, she may never cross paths with her again, share a laugh after pranking their teachers, feel the unmatched adrenaline of them breaking curfew at the foster home to get wasted together. All that stupid shit they used to do was nothing short of a lifeline, though she hadn't quite realized it until it was gone.

And all of that being gone she was understanding of— all she wanted to do was spare a simple word with Catra. She knew things would never be the same, but just the reassurance that Catra was alive and okay, it'd be enough. Being apart from her for years without contact brought nothing short of blazing anxiety, wondering if Catra was okay and even worse, if she was dead.

Adora had a lot on her mind she was aching to address. But now that she's here, finally sitting across from Catra in a safe space, Adora isn't quite sure what to say anymore.

Only moments ago, she had been spilling with desperate questions and strings of apologies. She'd been trying so hard to actually say them aloud, to share her innermost concerns with the person who needed to hear them most. Catra was no open book, that much was for sure. She’d have to pry if she wanted to get any sort of assurance out of the catgirl.

And she wanted to. But being here with Catra was.. intimidating. It was no doubt that Catra wasn't quite the cheerful, mischievous teenager she used to be. New scars had emerged along her body, raging down her collarbone, some decorating her forearms and other places Adora could see. She held with her a sort of sternness that was unrecognizable; as if she'd pounce at Adora's throat in any minute. The military changed people- it was no secret, but Catra had always carried herself that way in the first place. She’d just never imagined it’d be heightened in such a manner.

“You okay?” She couldn’t help how the words escaped her lips. Catra couldn’t seem to believe it either, eyes widening in confusion. Adora swallowed hard, wondering if that was a mistake to ask.

“Not sure what you mean.” Catra said, eyes trained on her glass. As her nails tapped the side of it, Adora wondered what sort of hell Catra had been through. How her mental state was as of now.

Catra wondered why Adora even cared. Even a small sentiment of _you okay?_ was so painfully familiar she thought of standing up and leaving. But her legs stayed anchored to the chair, attention still focused on her drink alone.

“Catra..”

“Doing better. I’ve got a good physical trainer, supportive friends, and I’m back in school.” Catra offered. It wasn’t a complete lie— but she wouldn’t get in depth to the logistics of any of that. It wasn’t really Adora’s place to know.

Adora felt her heart pang in relief. Though the mention of ‘supportive friends’ almost seemed accusatory. She paid no mind to it and she couldn’t fight back her hopeful smile. She was glad people had vouched for Catra and been there for her through all of this— she only wished she could’ve been, too.

“That’s amazing, Catra—“

Catra swallowed the uncomfortability from that phrase, “How’s your internship? I’m sure Kyle is nothing short of a nuisance.”

“Mm.. you’re not completely wrong.” Kyle was Adora’s partner in her internship program, and Adora had accepted him as her counterpart out of sheer pity alone. He had minimal experience and skills, but Adora didn’t mind heaving the workload. It made her feel in better control of the project, anyway. “But I like the people I work with. And hopefully this can turn into a real job, pretty soon.”

Adora smiled, and Catra reluctantly beamed back. She didn’t even care if it was real or not— just the fact that Catra had offered her something other than a scowl was a feat to celebrate.

"So? You said something about school. What are you studying?" Adora offered, face leaning on her elbow.

"Micro bio. But I won't lie and say shit's going well." Catra mumbled, twirling the straw of her drink between her fingertips. "Teachers aren't very fond of my.. difficulties." _What am I saying?_ She scolded herself for saying so much, _That's not any of her business._

Right. It had almost slipped Adora's mind that Catra was terribly dyslexic, the reason behind her hatred and struggle toward school in the first place. Catra was nothing short of a genius in her capable classes, but she'd always stuck to sports and physical training over anything.

"Well, I'm glad you're back in it. School, I mean." Adora said.

"Whatever." Catra deflected, arms crossed, "Beats sitting at home all day. Just wish I could afford it better." Catra didn't ask much back, not quite wanting to continue down that road of conversation.

But Adora was persistent. "I heard you did really well up there," she was careful, as to avoid any touchy subjects, "in the army. Aren't they supposed to give you a settlement, or something?"

"They did." Catra looked down. That was a big reason she’d joined the military, anyway. Scholarships weren’t close to an option with her terrible marks. “But.. all that money's gone to my treatments, now."

_Shit_. Adora knew she'd fucked up there. It was nothing short of a touchy subject, the way Catra had reacted to Adora's unsolicited discovery the other day. How her expression faded at its mention. It was probably why she’d come back, abandoned her position as a Force Captain, which reaped high rewards. Catra had always liked being at the forefront.

"I'm sorry, Catra." Adora offered. "I didn't mean to—"

If she didn't shut up with the apologies, Catra might scream. "It's fine. I'm lucky I've got any money in the first place."

"I just.. Iwish I could've helped you in someway." Adora said, laying her head into her crossed arms. A sigh accompanied the action as she met Catra’s gaze. The feline stared back at her with an emotion she couldn’t place.

"Well, guess it’s a good thing I don't need your help." The tone changed like ice melting. Catra turned her head away from Adora, praying her anger wouldn’t surface. “I’ve been doing just fine on my own.”

Adora, despite Catra's independent antics, felt responsible in someway. Like even though Catra had fled from her initial attempts to stay in touch, she hadn’t done enough to support her friend. Especially when she was always going through a rough time. 

"Catra, it's the least I can do. Please. How can I help?"

Catra almost snarled. You _could’ve helped, back then. Certainly not now_. Instead, “This is my shit, so I'll handle it."

"Yeah, but I can't help but feel like it's my fault that this happened."

Catra's expression suddenly fell. And with it, come Adora's escalating anxiety. How'd she fuck it up this time? ...Did she say something wrong?

"...What did you just say?" True anger began to arouse itself in Catra's expression. This time, she couldn’t stop it from emerging.

"Catra I-"

”Oh,” Catra says, blankly. “I see what this is now.”   
  


She tries to stifle a laugh— it’s not humorous. It’s icy and cruel.   
  


“This is your little attempt a social project.” Is all Catra can begin to analyze, watching Adora’s reaction carefully. It’s not the one she wants. 

“What?” Adora’s mouth parts like a fish, desperate and exasperated. “Catra that’s not why I—“

"You honestly think that I joined the military.. that all of this happened because I was upset over _you_?" Catra fought the urge to stand and scream. Every word a warning, more threatening than the last.

Adora couldn't lie- the thought had crossed her mind many times before. But after years of questions and aching reflections, it was clear that Catra was as spontaneous as ever when making that decision. In fact, it wasn't much of a surprise that she had. Back in high school, Catra always discussed how she'd do some time in the military to help her pay for school in the future, not to mention she was better with her hands and bare wit than a book. Her fascination with joining the Army and combat in general was what had ultimately landed her in an impressive Force Captain position.

"Wow. _Unbelievable_." Catra couldn't stifle her laugh of disbelief. The same laugh that had echoed through all of Adora's years of regret. "Seems like nothing's changed. Even after all of this time, you still think that everything is about _you_." The words were laced with a careful poison, one that rang in Adora's ears like an alarm.

Catra was a fool to think that things had changed, that Adora was ready to accept how things had gone. But just like always, Adora was only thinking about herself. She shouldn’t have expected any less of an ulterior motive. Sharing a meal with Adora was supposed to be simple, quick, just to get Adora off her back. But now she felt so sick she was sure she could vomit.   
  


Adora saw her as an opportunity. Not an old friend. Not someone to be worried for.

"Catra, that's not what I meant." Adora reaches for her companion, who retracted from the touch as if she’d been burned. And just like that it was over, again.

"Be honest, Adora.” Catra’s voice was breaking, “You're only bothering with all this shit because I'm a fucking cripple."

"No! Catra, I care about you—" _Don’t run. Not again._ Adora didn’t care that she was missing a leg, that she could hardly read, that she was emotionally incapacitated. What she cared about was Catra, her, the combination of those various flaws that made her best friend so special. So rare— _ex best friend,_ she solemnly corrected for what must’ve been the hundredth time.

"If you cared about me back before this happened, you would've at least tried to reach out." Catra spat, shoving her drink forward on the table. “If you’re trying to mend your guilty conscience, I’m sorry. I can’t give that to you.”

Adora was wordless at the remark. Frozen. Catra hadn’t expected any less— after all, just like before, Adora had little to offer in the face of the truth. She’d never been a liar— she’d instead use sweet words in the face of burning opposition. Maybe to anglicize herself.  Fuck if Catra knew. 

"Oh, and.. by the way?" Catra's yellow eye glowered back at her as she stood to leave, an image Adora had gotten quite accustomed to, “I don't need your fucking pity."

She never did.

=======================

Throwing her gym bag against the wall of a nearby building, hard, Catra collapsed onto a bench a couple blocks away. Her tail lashed behind her lowly in anger and confusion. _Fuck_! Why had she even gone to eat with Adora, anyway? She knew it would end like this— Adora ceasing to understand how terribly cruel words could be, and Catra running out in near tears like a coward. She clenched her teeth— wondering how even after being apart from her for years, Adora could still so effortlessly invade her mind. She was a fool.

Her head pounded so loud it nearly drowned her thoughts, and by the racing of her heart a terrible memory began to take form. She couldn't quite control how it took hold of her as her surroundings seemed to dissipate. She held her arms around her head in a futile attempt to protect herself.

As a new scene began to take form through her tears, smoke rose through the air. The smitten and torn out remains of trees surrounded where Catra’s form now lay in the snow. Catra's hypersensitive ears rang like an alarm as her eyes peeled open.

"S-Scorpia..." Catra wheezed, sprawled against the ground on her back. She couldn't hear her own voice. Only the echo of her own words screaming in her mind. Her body was numb, she wondered if it was from the cold or the alarming shade of red gathering itself beside her lower half. The snow was undoubtably soft beneath her form, though she could only feel it upon her back, mercilessly stinging the scars that resided there. Her heavy breaths drew cold air from her lips.

She wondered what happened to Scorpia. She had only just spoken to the girl before the explosion rang out. What if she was as good as dead? Was _she_ dead? No, she recognized her surroundings. If this was hell, that'd be one cruel joke.

She could hardly hear the sirens that blared from all around her. _A little late for a bomb warning, dipshits.._ her eyes closed out of sheer heaviness alone.

She tried to move her arms to prop herself up, but they wouldn't budge an inch. _Fuck. What'd they tell us to do?_ Catra focused on her hands. _Thumb. Index finger. Middle. Ring. Pinky_. All of her fingers seemed to be working fine, albeit her forearms were still glued to the ground. She tried her toes next, though she couldn't move any on her right leg, the left seemed okay. She sunk her fingers into the snow beneath her, eyes still upturned to the sky above. She clenched her teeth as she used all of the strength in her hands to push her back off of the ground.

Tears formed in her eyes as the cold air invaded them. She struggled for a few seconds before finally moving herself into an upright sitting position. This way, she'd be able to see the wound that the blood source originated from.

Eyes scouring her lower half, her clothing was ravaged by the impact of the explosion, torn and scattered around her. Though the cold didn't bother her exposed skin as she'd lost all feeling to it. Her arms were twisted in what looked like a painful angle on impact, which explained their reluctance to move. It was then that Catra noticed she was missing a very important commodity.

Catra lurched forward and vomited into the snow, chest heavy erratically. _Her leg. Holy fucking shit. Her leg was gone._ Indeed, where her right leg had once resided, there was now only a patch of red snow. A massive gash stood in its place, tendon split into a million pieces. It caved in completely to what was left of her thigh— it was nothing short of an image out of a horror movie. _Her leg was blown off. Where did it go? Oh my fucking god, it's gone_. She blinked rapidly hoping it would do something. Anything.

Thoughts running a mile a minute, Catra fought the urge to pass out. They'd been trained for handling a situation like this but never did Catra think she'd be fucking with the real thing. In her despair she collapsed back onto her back in exhaustion, her lower half completely paralyzed by the wound. She was fucked. The more she sat here, the more blood she lost. The hazier her vision became.

The fight within her mind far surpassed the physical. It was hard to wrap her head around the fact that her leg had been completely blown off to the muscle, maybe yards away from where she'd landed. It was no use. Her body wouldn't comply with her demands, no matter how much her surging adrenaline urged her on. _So much for fight or fucking flight. My leg is.. it's not even..._

All she could do was stare upward at the sky. Through the darkness that had now encased the edges of her vision, as sick as it was, all she could see was blue. As she feared it may be the end of her life regret soared throughout her senses. Out of all the images her mind could so generously conjure, all she saw was her face. _Adora_. Steel blue eyes and impossibly infectious smile, innocent by nature— but Catra had seen a side of her nobody else had. A weak, crumbling side, one aided by substance, pain and resentment. She was always so modestly strong, stronger than Catra ever was. What the fuck had she done? She'd never made things right, or even tried, and now the image she'd been left for death with was but a shadow of their childhood and nothing more. They never got to see the world together. _Be_ together. And through Catra's own malice, and hurt, she'd fed into her avoidance of Adora quite efficiently.

And now, here she was, left for dead. A reflection of herself mocked her in malice, a testament to past events she couldn't change. A twisted grin on her face that stared back at her, though she could only reply with wide eyes. Her self destructive alias surfaced without fail and began to laugh at her.  
  


_Was it all worth it, Catra?_

She could feel blood build in the back of her throat. It dripped from her lips, a crimson, eerie reminder of her mistakes. She hadn't seen the end in sight— not so soon, so blatantly. So pathetic.

She'd wasted her time, hadn't she. Made a fool of herself. _If I had a second chance..._

Unnamed shapes and colors danced in her vision. The sirens that had once invaded her ears now seemed miles away, and her chest slowed its erratic breaths. A blue eye closed, permanently, and then the yellow. The void took her, and with it, her last hope of reconciliation.


	5. of ripples and admission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s always been a bit complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Managed to get an update in before the trailer! I am so so scared you guys. Praying for all of us omg
> 
> tw// implied homophobia, anxiety/panic attack

It's a couple of days after Catra's thirteenth birthday, and Catra drags Adora up to their treehouse in the woods to celebrate. _Secret treehouse,_ to be specific, as Weaver would've had their heads if she'd found out about it. (Or, more so Catra's head. Maybe Adora'd hold the axe.) It was tradition ever since they'd built the thing out of construction scraps and trees torn by the fierce storms of spring. They'd sneak out under the cover of night, spending an hour or two or whatever spare time they could muster pushing the wood together as best as their little hands could. It wasn't much, and they wouldn't go so far as to say it was stable... but it was theirs.

And any prospect of _them_ , Catra and Adora, may as well be a crime under Weaver's iron fist. So simply spending time together in the foster home was a liability.. something that could only be done discreetly. (And came with its fair share of punishments when caught.) Out there in the woods, though, there was no Shadow Weaver nor watching eyes with ill intent. Just them and a pile of wood.

Adora insisted they save their expeditions to the woods for special occasions just to be careful. Catra doesn't care much for celebration, but can't help but enjoy the unrestricted attention. Sometimes though.. the attention bordered on _exhausting_.

"Ugh, get it _off_ ," Catra hisses, pawing at her face. She could feel her eyes burning at whatever contraption Adora had lathered in her features. She cursed herself for giving in without much thought.

"It's not an it, Catra. It's makeup." Adora pouts, frowning as her handiwork is destroyed before her very eyes. She wouldn't lie and say she was skilled at it, but she had tried.

"So what? You don't wear it, either." She shoved the brushes toward the blonde, furiously rubbing the dark eyeliner off.

"Nobody said I liked it," Adora chuckled, zipping up her bag. "You make a good test subject, that's all." She looked down at her lap, lips sealed tight. Was that too obvious a way to say Catra was really beautiful?

"That's all? What about best friend?" Catra lets out a deep breath into her companion's face, doing her best to annoy her. Adora is unphased and smiling.

"The _best_ best friend." Adora clarified, shoving the catgirl's shoulder. Gods she could be smug.

"In that case, let's go down to the river and wash this shit off." Catra drags Adora along, and the two scale the short ladder down to the ground. The river is less than a quarter mile out, and the two dash their way toward it, Catra moaning all the while about the smeared makeup on her cheeks and eyes.

"C'mere." Adora motions for her friend to walk over, leaning down beside the bank. She scoops some water into her cupped palms and Catra finds her place beside her. Adora's fingertips brush the side of her face, and Adora swallows hard at Catra's waiting expression, eyes closed and cheeks puffed in a pout. Adora can't help the smile that fights its way onto her face at the sight. She was so.. trusting. Unsuspecting.

Splashing a handful of water onto her companion's face without warning, the catgirl hisses. "Hey! Watch it!" She rubs at her eyes again, desperately trying to make use of the water.

"Not sure what you mean. You wanted it washed off, right?" Adora smirks, backing away from her companion, who was glaring at her fiercely.

The glare quickly loses its fire however, and mends into a competitive smirk of her own. "Oh, you're so gonna pay for that!" Catra blinks to regain her bearings, and the chase begins.

Catra wins, obviously, and no harm comes to Adora other than the disheveling of her perfect little ponytail. The two decide upon taking the time to admire the landscape of the woods, finding a stone platform beside the river to calm down. Adora dips her toes into the water hesitantly. It's cold but it's a comfortable contrast to the humidity which enraptures them. Catra purposefully avoids the water, arms wrapped around her knees which are pressed tightly to her chest. She's looking forward into the landscape of trees on the other side of the river, gaze locked to the shadows they produce like something's on her mind.

"Hey, Adora?" Catra murmurs thoughtfully.

"Yeah?" Her eyes are on the water, and how a reflection of the two sitting on the edge of the lake beams back up at her. This river was always so calm, even in the face of all odds. The rocks pierced through it and left trails of ripples filled with thought.

"I think I'm gay." The words leave Catra's lips so bluntly, so unexpectedly.. and Adora has little time to absorb them.

She blinks once, twice. Tongue feigning lead.

"Oh.. okay." Adora felt as if an unattainable chord had been struck— the wind knocked out of her body. Though she couldn't quite trace why.

"Yeah." The water seemed to dissolve beneath them to show Catra only, donning an expression of poise she'd never before seen.

Years later, and nothing is the same. A confession like that to your best friend shouldn't be all that life changing. Speaking your truth was good, after all. Some would even consider themselves honored to be trusted with such a secret. Not that Adora wasn't— in fact, Catra wasn't big on admissions in general. The fact she'd even told her about something going on about her identity was... surprising enough.

But, to Adora, everything had changed since that moment. Sure, Adora and Catra kept their same routine, and the prospect was never directly mentioned again— but it couldn't help but stand as a sort of unspoken reminder. That Adora was unphased, that she'd accept Catra for whoever she was. Catra couldn't have been happier that she'd finally mustered up her courage to tell the person she trusted most. Adora couldn't have been more proud.

The two went about their lives, but now, Catra dated girls. Not that she dated much of anyone before that— she'd lamented to Adora for years that the prospect of a relationship disgusted her.. but turns out, girls weren't so bad. So Catra would sneak girls into their room, and Adora would try to remain unphased by this new development. It's not like these people challenged their friendship, or drove any kind of wedge between the two. But often times ( _a lot of the time_ ) she wanted nothing more than to throw these people out. To scold and berade Catra.

So why did it bother her so much? Why was Adora, for years (since she was what, twelve years old?) unable to stop herself from coming back to that moment? Imaging the sound of the soft current of the water below them, the feeling of the soil between weaving through her fingers. The smile on her best friend's face, a weight lifted from her chest as the two basked in the sunset together. That they'd cherished like it was their last.

It's not until the summer of sophomore year that Catra finally comes out— well, publicly. Adora had known since well into middle school. It was far from the easiest thing she's ever done; thing is, the kids in F'Zone high weren't necessarily homophobic, they just strayed from hybrids thanks to Weaver's tainted influence. And being an outcast in two ways was worse than one. Adora is proud of her though, and there for her every step of the way.

She still couldn't believe Catra's bravery in the face of all odds but she wasn't suprised. For what she cared about, what she stood for— Catra would throw up a middle finger to all opposition. (She admired that, endlessly.) Shadow Weaver never mentions it but Catra's sure word had spread about it to that extent. It was no secret, anymore.

And after years of senseless thought and consideration it's suddenly clear why Adora is so bothered by the whole ordeal. When she sees Catra with other girls, she imagines herself in their place. When she even looks at Catra, she no longer sees her long-time childhood friend— instead, she sees a potential lover. The thought doesn't bring bile to the back of her throat like it should. When the possibility is brought up in her dreams, she awakens with nothing but sheer happiness and longing. The same feeling of comfort Catra had always procured— only now, it was so much _stronger_.

So, her identity crisis brought her some aching confusion— does she like girls now? It would make sense, as she's always admired her female classmates much more intensely than her male counterparts, finding herself enjoying their time on a more impactful level.

Thing is, even if that were the case Adora's never going to come out because coming out means she loves Catra. It'd be painfully obvious that way. She wouldn't trade their friendship for anything in the whole world, so she dates around with a couple of guys to dissolve the thought. She wishes she had the blatant confidence and self-assurance to publicly identify her interests. Unlike Catra, she'd never been comfortable labeling her sexuality. Mostly because she was horribly confused. Sure, she didn't care much for guys, but she also wasn't quite on the hunt for girls. Catra, though.. she cared a lot for her. She always had. But ever since that night where Catra told her such an unbridled secret, she could feel that care start to foster into something new, more intense. And often times, the forbidden thought of the two touching, kissing— it crossed her mind. Maybe more often than not.

"Catrasexual," Lonnie would tease Adora, and the girl would, unfailingly, burn ripe at the remark. Sometimes she wondered why she even told Lonnie any of this shit. They were close friends for a long time, their relationship stemming off of their respective sports. They were both captains and thus had their own competitive fued, not to mention she was probably one of the only friends she and Catra shared. But she knew Lonnie would never utter a word to Catra, and that was enough.

Adora distances herself a little bit from Catra in their junior year, hoping the feeling would fade. Seeing Catra with other girls just hurts too much. Catra pretends the sudden distance doesn't bother her. She'd always been good at that, after all.

Their weekly tradition of hanging out still remained, though, and a sixteen-year-old Catra picks up Adora from soccer practice, same as she always had. Even with this aching gap forming between them, how could they not? Their consistencies were what they clung so tightly to. She picks her up around nine, ignoring Weaver's curfew in exchange for uninterrupted time that was, nowadays, hard to come by. Her convertible teeters on the edge of crumbling, groaning every time the engine bursts to life, but it's a car and it's more than Adora's got.

"And then, that bitch decided that an _eyeroll_ would get her point across-" Catra scoffs, deep in a rant about a run-in she'd dealt with earlier as she drives. Seems like almost every day she got really close to a fight. She'd struggled with her violent antics a lot in the foster home, and it's only brought her trouble ever since.

"Catra." Adora smiled knowingly. Her friend got a little temperamental, sometimes. Okay, a lot of the time.

"What?"

"Anger. Issues." Adora mused, arms crossed.

"Okay, but what would _you_ do if someone was mouthing your friend off like that?" Catra demands with a shake of her head, "A- stand there like an idiot, or B- make it clear you're about to throw hands."

"Um.. yeah." Adora isn't listening. She's clearly distracted, what by the way the words don't register properly.

"Oh wow, excellent choice princess." Sarcasm dripped from Catra's tongue and she side-eyed her companion. She seemed to be in some sort of daze, explaining the transparent response. Her eyes were stuck on the dash, fighting a smile on her face, flushed as if something had happened.

"What's got your dumb face looking like that?" She can't help but ask, scoffing.

"Like what?" Adora gasped, offended.

"Smiling, idiot." She flicked Adora's ear.

"You're an idiot."

A hum in response. "And you're avoiding the question?"

"Mm.... no? I just don't know what you're talking about?" Adora deflects, hand finding the back of her neck.

"If you don't fess up I'm dropping your ass on the side of the road." Catra decided, car beginning to slow down at the promise.

"Okay! Okay." Adora said, gripping Catra's forearm to stop her from hitting the brakes. Thing is, when Catra said things like that, she wasn't kidding. But it's not like she wasn't going to tell her anyway.

"I don't know.. I just can't stop thinking about a kiss I had last night."

" _Kissing_?" Catra is still dead focused on the road, "Who cares, Adora?" After all, they'd both had their fair share of partners. A kiss was hardly a concern— but, still, _Catra_ cares. Her heartbeat thrums in an almost embarrassing crescendo at the mention, and her grip tightens on the wheel. Not quite the turn of conversation she'd expected. And if the tint on her cheeks said anything, it was clear that she couldn't quite handle the thought.

Who was Adora _with_ now? It was hard to tell, really— Adora was no playboy but she surely dated around at school, and if things didn't feel right (which they never seemed to) she wasn't afraid to end things. So it was hard to keep track, especially when the topic of relationships was (unspokenly) off limits between the two. Catra had tried it before but Adora always seemed defensive about the subject. So she'd respect her... privacy? Or whatever reason she had to cross her arms and deflect its mention.

Catra wonders if Adora knows. She must know, what with how Catra's eyes scarcely leave her, how her cheeks go a little pink when Adora grabs her hand to drag her along on their various escapades. How her oxygen vanished when their arms brushed in the hallways. Adora's body heat gripping her in a way that far surpassed comforting. Things are the same as always, but so scaldingly different that Catra simply cannot bear the thought. But crushing on your straight best friend (since they were kids, really!) was nothing short ofpointless, painful and unfair. So, she dates around a couple of girls to dissolve the thought.

Everything is the same, she and Adora are best friends, and they still tell each other everything. (Well.. _almost_ everything.) They still get lockers next to one another, drag each other to the same useless clubs, cheer each other on like madmen in their respective sports. They prioritize each other like they always have. And yet.. something is terribly different. It makes the hairs on the back of Catra's neck rise with fervor, an aching confusion following her every interaction with her best friend. Constantly overthinking the smallest of sentiments, a nagging hope in the back of her mind persisting.

"I don't know.." Adora trails off, eyes glued to the dash because anywhere else, and they'd be burning through her companion. "It's stupid.. nevermind."

"Well..." _damn, Catra! Stop being a selfish asshole!_ Catra's never been good with love talk. "If you have something to say.. I'm here for you. You can trust me." She tries with all of her might to hide the hurt from her voice. There's a reason she also doesn't like to discuss Adora's love life, or her own love life, because in reality they're nothing more than a painful reminder of her predicament...

"I've just been having a thought." Adora mutters, fingers tapping against her arm. Looking almost shameful after the remark.

"Okay?"

"So.. I kissed a girl last night?" She blurts, unflinchingly.

"O- _kay_?" Catra's voice is half excitement, and half shoving it down to remain cool. Adora had gone to a party last night, probably gotten drunk.. who said it meant anything? _Elaboration would be great, right about no_ w. "...And?"

She tried to keep her wide eyes away from her best friend, who had just blatantly confessed that she had _kissed a girl._ Girls. Catra liked girls— Catra liked Adora. Did Adora like girls? It was _way_ too difficult to keep a level-headed amount of happiness for her. She tried with all of her being to at least tone it down to a friendly level, not an _excited_ level. She was just telling her this because they were best friends. Normal secrets. This doesn't mean she suddenly wants to date Catra— she reminds herself of this fact on a loop.

"It was.. really good." Adora said, flatly.

"That's awesome." Is this how Adora felt when Catra had come out? Painstakingly proud, accepting, but.. unsure of what to say? Or was it because she was far too busy in her own mind, wondering how and if she could take that girl's place—

"So.. I'm gay." Adora shrugs, as if it's meaningless. Catra almost slams the brakes at the remark just to get a better hold of the situation. _Holy shit._ If her knuckles turning white on the wheel were any indication, she was not taking this calmly. Not at all.

But Adora hears, "Same. Join the club." _What the fuck_? The words had slipped from Catra's tongue before she could stop them, her voice lackingany clear emotion in her desperate attempts to properly omit it. Her voice dripped with awkwardness, and she silently wished she could disappear. If Adora weren't sitting beside her she'd be bashing her head into the steering wheel.

There's some silence after that, but it's not awkward. Adora is in her own little world in the passenger seat after all. I mean, what could possibly be going on in her mind after such a confession?

"So.. you dig that girl?" Catra arches a brow.

"No.." Adora is still gazing out the window.

"the kiss was nice, though."

Catra hums in response, fighting back a small grin,

"Hmph. Well.. welcome to the dark side, princess."

==================

Catra gasps, and the world emerges from black and white to an aching flash of color. Heat emits from her right and she grips on the person sat beside her, fingernails sinking into their forearm on instinct. She feels them flinch and seethe, but not retract.

_What happened? Where am I_? Her brain buzzed on a loop. Her head is pounding like an alarm, commands thick and unresponsive, and she blinks rapidly to absorb her surroundings.

"Catra! _Catra_." A face appears above her hazy vision, blue eyes reaching through the fog. Their steel hue grip her throat like a vice. "Catra? Are you okay?!?" The concern in her voice is _imminent, radiating_... Adora?

Catra is aware now that she's collapsed on a park bench, head laying in Adora's lap. Her ex best friend to be completely precise, the one she had completely exploded on only moments ago. Adora's hand is on her forehead as if feeling her temperature— but other than that, keeping her hands away. And it was embarrassingly obvious she hadn't put Catra's head on her thighs. Catra was dead frozen in confusion, body feigning ice.

Adora. She had just talked to her, but it still felt like she hadn't seen her in a decade. _Why was Adora here? ...Hadn't she just made it clear that Adora should stay away?_

If for no other reason than simply stumbling across her, Adora was here, right now. And Catra couldn't quite handle it.

"M...h.." Catra tried to protest, but her body was frozen, her mouth unable to form proper words. Fuck. It'd been another shock, hadn't it? Her fist tightened around Adora's leg, being the only gesture she could manage. The woman's eyes go slack in despair as she realizes Catra's paralyzed state.

Adora's breathing escalates. Was she actually.. afraid for her? Or was the blur of her eyes deceiving her? Catra can feel her raging pulse through her grip on the girl's arm as she asks, "Oh my god, do I need to take you to a hospital?"

"N-no.." she manages, "m'okay.."

"Are you sure?" Adora asks, voice careful.

She answers with another squeeze, words failing her again. Her body is curled forward, one leg pressed against her chest, the other _metallic_ one slung over the side of the bench. It's uncomfortable but Catra's thoughts are much more focused on begging her to come out of her most vulnerable state. The least she could do after embarrassing herself in front of Adora (countless times now) was hang on to any shard of dignity she had left.

"Hey hey, you're alright. Focus on me." Adora says, thumb rubbing over her knuckle soothingly. Even if she wanted to retract from the hold, she couldn't. _That's the problem, Adora. I can't even bear to look at you._ Simply taking in a glance of that all too familiar face destroyed her. She tried to follow her instructions, anyway, knowing Adora knew what she was doing. As she forces her eyes up she can feel tears prickling at the sheer difficulty alone.

Catra feels awfully pathetic but when Adora looks at her, it only extinguishes her raging self consciousness. The comfort she used to drag from Adora when they were kids was seeping through her exterior just like it used to. She couldn't bear it.

And her hand is so warm Catra would scream if she could. Instead of offering pity, Adora simply asks, "Is there anything I can do?"

Right, Adora hadn't seen this side of her. She hadn't seen what Catra had become ever since her deployment, since.. the incident. Constantly plagued by painful episodes in times of emotional crisis, when stress overtook her. Often times they resulted in this intense physical shock. It was temporary, sure, but the severity varied.

She hadn't had one in weeks.. three, maybe four? It was the longest streak she'd had thus far, and it had come to an all too abrupt end. _Wonder_ _why_.

Normally, her roommates dealt with this shit. Called them night terrors, considering they usually happened in the comfort of her own bed— certainly not in public settings, broad daylight. But suppose that was sort of the thing. She'd allowed Adora to get under her skin to such an extent that her body found it fitting to completely shut down. Adora was baggage, a terribly heavy weight that even some half a decade later she still hadn't managed to sort out. Tears formed in her eyes and her hand curls into a fist at her side.

It's loud. Too loud. What with the commotion of the city surrounding them, not to mention the constant passerbys and automobiles, Catra is overwhelmed with sound. She tries to self analyze her condition to push through the paralyzing agent the sounds bring forth, _mind over matter_. Seahawk's words echo through her mind like a real therapist. _Physical barriers are only as strong as your emotional state_.

But simply giving herself a pep talk wasn't doing her any wonders. She can feel herself begin to regain her bearings and she manages to sputter out, without thought, "Daytoun."

"What?" Adora is attendant as her head scans the street in confusion, like she'd misheard her. "Daytoun? The athletics complex?"

Catra's nails dig into her leg, purposefully. "Go. P-please." She prays the crack in her voice doesn't sound as desperate on Adora's end.

"Uhm— yeah. Of course." Adora decides not to question it. Second guessing hasn't gotten her anywhere, before. "Can you stand?"

Catra's silence answers for her, and Adora glances into her eyes hesitantly. With a silent nod of reassurance, Adora wraps her arms underneath Catra's legs while the catgirl slings her own around the girl's shoulder limply. Every sudden movement bringing her a searing headache. Adora is careful with her movements, slow and steady as she lifts Catra into a bridal hold and carries her toward what looked to be her car. Catra's throat burns in unexplainable appreciation that she can't seem to express.

God. She'd treated Adora like shit. Was she deserving of it? Sure, but that didn't explain Adora's behavior now. Wistfully, she thought back to a time when gestures like this didn't bother her. They'd made a promise to one another that they'd do everything they could to protect each other— scarcely left each other's side. Now, as she gazed up at the determination in Adora's expression, she felt a burning nostalgia almost as painful as the pounding of her skull. Bile rising at the reminder that things were far from the way they used to be.

She sets Catra down into the back of her car, lowering her head across the cushioned seats. She holds her with a tenderness despite the raging tension that emits from Catra's form. She doesn't want Adora to help her. She doesn't want Adora touching her so carefully, doesn't want her seeing the fear aligning her every movement and choking word. The catlike woman that laid before her was far from her childhood self, the one that faced her problems head on, held with her such a commendable bravery that Adora told her every day how she wished she could be like her. She was terribly weak, vulnerable, _broken_ —

"Catra?" Adora's voice cuts through her panic, soft and incredibly concerned. Her face isn't far from Catra's own, eyes shining in confusion. "If you want to go home I can—"

Her hand reaches up to grip Adora's forearm, which is busy holding the side of her head. "No." Catra can't believe what she's saying, but in her mind, it makes sense. It's the _only_ thing that makes sense.

"Please, Adora. I need this."

A sob crawls up her throat and she chokes on it, doing everything in her power to keep it back. It hurts so fucking much. Not only from her constant living nightmares, but from the fact that the woman whose mere existence destroyed her every second since their separation was only inches away from her, form hovering above her own. It was horribly intimate how she felt right now, and if she couldn't escape that feeling, she figured she'd just cling to it. Like a scared puppy, a hostage with a gun to her forehead. Even if only for one day she'd give in.

After all, she was far too weak to refuse.

"Okay." Adora swallows hard, pulling herself away from Catra's grip (rather hesitantly) and shutting the car door behind her. As she steps into the drivers side and shoves her keys into the ignition, Catra's head falls into the backseat cushion and she gazes at the ceiling of Adora's car. The back light flickers erratically as it always had, ever since Catra had punched it out in a fit of rage years ago. The day Adora announced she was leaving Catra to go to Brightmoon. It was quite the overreaction at the time, but compared to what Catra had just suffered, it made it seem like nothing more than a tantrum.

It mocked her as the car roared to life, persisting throughout the whole ride to Daytoun. Catra wonders if Adora thinks of that night when she looks at the shattered light. Thinks of Catra.

"Thanks." She manages from the backseat, hands resting on her stomach. The words don't taste right in her mouth.

A blue eye peeks at her from the front seat, and Catra can't help but flinch at the words."Always."

====================

"We're here." Adora yanks open the back door, staring at Catra from afar. The light from outside streaks from behind her and seems to make her glow in the limelight. It had probably been no more than ten minutes, but to Catra, an eternity had passed. Another was sure to follow.

Catra can stand now and exit the car on her own, but as she steps forward she stumbles, and Adora rushes in to catch her. She wraps the catgirl's arm around her shoulder and offers her a wordless crutch. Catra accepts, though her eyes remain focused on the pavement of the parking lot. _Yeah, not gonna start on how warm she is._

They step inside, and after speaking to some people, a man escorts them to the main gym. Adora is soaking in every detail, no doubt thinking back on old times. She was sentimental like that.

They’re heading into the gymnasium now, the most familiar location of all. “If you don't mind me asking, what are we doing here— oh." Adora stands, dumbfounded, as she eases Catra's hindered form into the stands beside her.

A timer blinks rapidly to the side of the gymnasium, a score presenting itself to the cheering crowd. Dozens of women are diving and leaping in several directions, try to keep a ball elevated in the air. The gym smells of sweat and determination. A semi-national volleyball game.

Catra settles into her seat on the bleachers. Being here was like home, even despite her actual hometown being hundreds of miles away. Every summer she and Adora would get their parents to drive them up to the championship gym when the season was over so they could make use of its emptiness. It wasn't any different from any other training ground, but it was important to Catra. Even now, it made her feel that same burning excitement of high school, how they'd nearly made it to state year after year. Simply standing in the gym always made her feel powerful.

"Gods, I remember when you drag me out here to give you sets." Adora gasps in disbelief, glancing at Catra beside her, who is now invested in the game. Her ears no longer downturned or sadness plaguing her every movement. Adora was starting to understand her urgency to get here. To.. be here.

"And you weren't the best at it." Catra couldn't stop the snort that crawled up her chest. A surge of happiness ignited itself in Adora's mind as she hears the sarcasm in her voice— she takes it like a peace offering. As if she wasn't about to cry in her backseat only moments ago.

"Hey, but I did." Adora's eyes flash in surprise. "Without complaints, mind you."

"But you were always so good at every sport." Catra has always envied Adora natural athletic ability, her physical strength. Weaver had her enrolled in as many sports as she could manage to build her portfolio. Catra wondered if she even cared about any of them.

"Not as good as you were at volleyball." Adora said, and confidently. It was true. Catra spent most of her time in high school with a ball in her hand, slamming it across the court with an intense might and unmatchable competitiveness that never failed or entice Adora. She'd attended her every game, after all. And even when they'd gone to seminationals.

"Yeah." Catra swallows. "I was alright, wasn't I?"

" _Alright_? Don't remember you being so humble." Adora wants to chuckle, but isn't sure if she'd overstepped her bounds with the remark, lips sealed shut.

"Yeah, well.. don't get used to it."

Not quite. Thing was, they were both used to it. This sort of rhythm they'd eased themselves into so suddenly, this banter.. it was so familiar it made Catra want to vomit. The smile fighting Adora's expression was hard to ignore, after all— but she tries anyway for the sake of preventing another breakdown. Two in one day would border on a personal record.

"I thought about getting back into it. You know, once I was sent home?" Catra said, eyes trained onto the teams before her. She certainly hadn't forgotten about her love of volleyball but when it had failed to produce a scholarship, it voided her priorities. Her passion for the sport wasn't much of a concern with a gun in her hand and orders stuffed in her brain.

"Obviously.." her nails dig into her palm, "things didn't go as planned."

Adora's gaze goes toward their feet, and she seems to catch her mistake as she snaps a glance at the side of Catra's face, instead. A slip up like that could prove deadly.

"I'm sorry." Adora fixes her slip up as Catra glowers slightly at the remark, "And I don't mean like, an apology. It's just.. not fair."

"I know how much you cared about it." Truthfully, The last time she'd seen Catra truly happy was when they'd attend the Brightmoon championship games. When she had a ball in her hand. She knew she wasn't there for whatever Catra had suffered after high school, but she knows one thing for sure.

"You deserve better than that."

Adora is facing her completely now, looking determined. Like she'd just gotten an A on their exam after hours of hard work— like she'd pummeled the opposing team with everything in her power, like she'd give her everything. Catra almost jumps off the stands.

"Yeah, well, life's not fair, is it?" Catra crosses her arms over her chest and sighs.

"Do you want to play sometime?" Adora asks like it's nothing.

"I..." Catra's voice fades and so does the game before her. Her senses disappears under the weight of the question.

Adora continues, "I know I'm no good, but my roommates Bow and Glimmer aren't too rusty. I could get some people together.. well, if you wanted."

"Why?" Catra doesn't understand. Maybe she never will. She was an asshole to Adora ever since they'd seen each other again, nothing more than a pathetic excuse of an old best friend. "Why would you do that?"

Adora's only response is is to face forward, fingers drumming against her thigh. The question seems to trouble her and she swallows.

"Adora.." her throat feels way too tight. "Adora, I can't."

"Look, this was really nice of you.. but.." Catra is staring at her hands, her palms facing up in her lap. "I can't handle that."

She looks up at Adora, who isn't looking at her. She finally feels some sort of guilt at how she'd so quickly rejected a kind offer, "Okay? I'm so—"

"We won't then." Adora says. The sound of the team finishing their final set envelopes the auditorium at Adora's words of understanding. “I didn’t mean to poke a bruise.”

“It’s fine.” Catra manages, though all she feels is disappointment. If she thought she was mentally stable enough to accept the offer, gods know she would. She’d probably even endure Adora’s self- entitled, prissy college friends. Maybe even.. _Nope, delete that thought._

“Catra?” Adora says, inciting her attention again. She’s noticed the slump in Catra’s shoulders, the regret and pain aligning her multicolored orbs. She was no stranger to this side of the feline. “You’re doing amazing, okay?” Her gaze is stern and commanding, as if unable to allow Catra to protest.

The catgirl’s throat goes tight, the hand on her shoulder unbearably familiar. If only she’d known how much she needed to hear that. She’d heard similar things from her various therapists, her friends.. and yet, the words felt terribly stagnant compared to Adora’s. Even after all this time, Catra still longingly chased after her ex best friend’s opinion— her approval. Still shut down at her every aching syllable. And her heart, in this moment, was swelling more than she’d like.

Words failed her as they often did, and she only answered with her eyes at her feet.

"Can you walk?" Adora's hand grips her arm softly, as if to support her weight. She changes the subject like she hasn’t just given Catra another crisis.

Catra shoves it away, though her stomach seems to disapprove of the action. "Yes. Just.. give me a minute." She grabs the edge of the stand, eyes shut tightly as she evens out her breaths. She was in a better mindset in this safespace, now, but the painful jolts she feels up her spine remained from her shock. Every movement like daggers- a warning.

It didn't help that she could feel Adora's gaze burning into her back at every step she took back toward the car.


	6. refugee of my mind, one more hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tried to come up with a proper description for this chapter. all I could muster was:
> 
> Adora and Catra are stupid. So fucking stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had some inspiration recently so can hopefully update much more frequently <3
> 
> tw// underage drinking, sex as an unhealthy coping mechanism

It's late in the afternoon, and sweat decorates Adora's form as a result of the beaming sun. She nearly collapses on the bleachers beside the school to rest her aching legs. She's nothing short of exhausted from the first game of their season, which (god knows how) ended in a win. F'Zone high's sports teams were far from notable, but ever since Adora's leadership had taken hold of her various teams they had certainly picked up some slack. She found the most solace in soccer, being raised with a torn up ball at her feet at the budgeted foster home and nothing more. She thrives in this victory, for now, swallowing another refreshing shot of water down her parched throat. The field and the surrounding area are starting to empty out as time goes on. Not many people came out this time of year, as studies and exams triumphed any sense of school spirit. Even so, her eyes scan carefully for a mismatched pair like she's sifting through a crowd.

"Heyy, Adora," a voice purred from behind her, the sudden drawl causing her to jump out of her socks. "Looking for someone?"

"Oh, Catra! You came." Adora couldn't shove back the grin that exploded at the sight of her best friend beside the bleachers, smiling back. In her hand was a bright orange bag of Popeye's, containing Adora's favorite chicken sandwich. Catra once mentioned fried chicken was nothing short of revolting— but she'd still get it for Adora anyway come their Friday night escapades. Yes, Catra was secretly sweet. No, she would not admit to it.

She set the bag down beside her as Adora launched herself into her embrace. A bit hard, maybe to the point where Catra _almost_ fell back on her ass. Adora wasn't very light, let's say.

"Of course!" Catra rolled her eyes, accepting the hug. Warm. Familiar— kind of disgusting, considering Adora was drenched in a sticky layer of sweat. She tried to ignore that last part. "I'd never miss a game, doofus."

Adora doesn't take the teasing to heart. She knows it's typical best friend behavior, but can't help but take pride in Catra's dedication. Seeing her dumb smirk after the games was certainly better than any victory the team had taken thus far. And she didn't mind the free rides, of course.

"What's with the outfit? Are you going somewhere?" Adora questioned as she pulled away, soaking in her best friend's appearance. She was wearing ripped jeans with a chain sewn into the pocket, which whipped alongside her tail in the harsh fall wind. Despite it being breezy, she sported a maroon tank top concealing a dark purple bralette that wrapped around her shoulders. If that wasn't casual enough the leather jacket she shrugged on certainly completed it, but even with minimal effort Catra never failed to look good.

"Oh, party. Tonight." Catra mentally slapped herself for forgetting to mention this to Adora. "You down to go to Rogelio's?"

"Mmmm..." Adora bit her tongue, wondering how she was supposed to refuse Catra. "Thing is, we've got exams Monday..."

Catra snorts. Seventeen years old and Adora still spent her time yielding to Shadow Weaver's overburdening expectations. She really needed to shake that habit. "Cmon, 'Dora! What the old hag doesn't know won't hurt her. Loosen up, will you?"

Catra was always right about that. She never got to enjoy herself, these days. Not with her foster mother breathing down her shoulder, indefinitely.. pushing her to her limit. The strain of her responsibilities were certainly taking a toll, even if she'd never admit that out loud. And the prospect of her every aching muscle with her back to back trainings, her thoughts having little room for any focus aside from her management commitments— she needed an escape. Badly.

"Okay.." she murmurs, ignoring Catra's smoldering grin of victory, "what time?"

"Midnight."

" _Catra_!" Adora scoffed, seemingly unconvinced, "We have a curfew!"

"And we also have a window." She quipped back, shrugging.

Adora is silent at that, offering a roll of her eyes but little to no disagreement. Catra smirks, knowing she'd roped her in.

They head home around seven and Adora begs Catra to study with her, even if that word was completely void of the catgirl's vocabulary... for obvious reasons. It's not that she actually needed help so much as some company. Adora settles on her cot with textbook in hand, thumbing through the pages with a quiet hum. Catra joins her shortly after a shower, finding her place across Adora's legs as if to wordlessly beg for some attention.

Maybe it was a little weird, all things considered.. almost seventeen years old and still sharing a bed. But if anything it would be weird if they _didn't_ , if Catra wasn't curled up at her feet, cutting off the circulation at her ankles and shaking her awake when her snoring got too loud. It was a consistency that hadn't been shattered throughout their entire childhood, their teenage years, and though some may frown upon it from an outside perspective it didn't matter. As long as things stayed the same there was no issue between the two.

Plus, she liked petting Catra. It sounded strange, sure, but with someone as standoffish and hardheaded as her, it was hard to come by a little peace and vulnerability. This was one of the only ways Catra would give in to a little affection— momentarily tame her spontaneous nature.

Adora idly wished Catra would forget about the party. She sort of liked the feeling of her fingers brushing through Catra's mane, the girl splayed across her lap and purring in silent content. They didn't do this a lot anymore what with having so little time to themselves, sports and school and Catra's rebelliousness overwhelming any time the two could spare together. But she was here with Catra now, whose head was buried in the mattress, body slack and yielding to her soft touches. Adora fought every urge to tease her about how cute she was like this but figured she didn't want to die young. So instead she smiled down at her friend in silent admiration, basking in this evanescent peace.

"Time?" Catra murmured into the sheets with a sigh.

"Half past eleven." Adora said, in traces of disappointment.

"Okay. Let's go." Catra sat up, (albeit reluctantly) stretching her arms above her head and gliding across the room. She grabbed her car keys as well as the key to their shared room that they most certainly weren't supposed to have, locking their room door and stuffing her pockets with various party essentials. (How Catra had a wad of hundred dollar bills, Adora wasn't sure.) The blonde stared at the door in scorching worry, hardly able to believe she was sneaking out right now.

"We're so dead if she tries to come in." Adora groaned. She wondered how long she'd be grounded for, if Weaver might even make her quit the team.. but every negative thought was overrun by her excitement to be sneaking out with Catra. They never really— well _she_ never really got out of the house much. Not for anything she wasn't required to, at least.

"Lets just say we're.. heavy sleepers." Catra offers with a snicker.

Adora mumbles something as Catra is already halfway out the window, offering her hand out to Adora. It was going to be a long night.

======================

Catra's car is parked two blocks away, as to avoid any suspicion from Weaver— the sound of that rusty engine heating up could wake up the whole block, surely. As they bolt down the street, hand in hand, Catra tries with her every being to stifle a chuckle at Adora's look of realization.

Adora shakes her head at the clear preparation. "You planned this, didnt you?"

"You give in easy." Catra smirks, knowingly. “Now get in."

The drive is nearly therapeutic, the way the wind weaves through Adora's hair like ribbons. Arm slung over the side of the car door, eyes squeezed shut, the blonde hasn't felt this relaxed in a long time. It's short, as Rogelio's is only a couple blocks, and Catra snorts at the sight of her friend nearly dozing off. On their way to a party, no less.

"We're here. Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep," Catra slaps the interior of her car purposefully, causing Adora to jump in suprise.

" _Geez_ Catra— wait.. beautiful, huh?" Adora teases through tired eyes.

Catra feels her throat swell up, though only momentarily. "Obviously, the sleep didn't work." That earns a groan and a shove from Adora, who feigns betrayal.

Catra throws her backpack over her shoulder, gathering her things and money. She's about to exit the car when Adora grabs her shoulder, effectively stunning her. "Hey." Adora asks, lazily, "I know we're here and all, but... what if we, you know, didn't go?"

"Adoraaaa." Catra drags her hands down her face, groaning. She'd seen it coming. The rebuttal. The plottwist of the night. She knew Adora would pull something like this, _surely_ — and she was dogshit terrible at refusing her.

"Come on, I mean. I don't get to go out all that much. Why waste the time by partying again?" Adora raises an eyebrow.

Catra sighs. "Well... okay." It'd been easier to convince her than Adora initially thought- but it was the least she could do for forcing Adora out of the foster home. Plus, maybe she didn't care about the party anyway. Maybe she wouldn't even have gone without her best friend. "But we're buying some booze from Octavia."

"Deal." Adora buzzes in newfound excitement. It would be a new experience, exploring the town with Catra outside of a bar or another blurry, forgettable party.

They ride around the town for a while. It's far past midnight now, and at this point neither of them give much thought to their original plan anyway. The streets are empty save a few drunken inhabitants and night owls. Adora clutches the bottle they had just purchased from Octavia toward her chest, wondering it they'd join that category soon enough.

They find an empty clearing by the woods, Catra locking her car behind her and dragging Adora along. It's the same woods they'd always trudged through and explored as kids, though this wasn't quite the same part they had grown accustomed to.

Adora lets herself be guided anyway. She trusted Catra and, there was really nothing else she'd rather be doing.

"What is this place?" Adora asks in wonder.

All she can take in initially is a thicket of redwood trees, one standing out amongst the rest. There's a small setup at the base of the impressively large stump. It consists of a couple chairs, blankets, and a bundle of what looked to be snacks suspended on the tree as to avoid hungry wildlife. A lantern, a large crack decorating its surface, dangles from a stray branch. Catra whips a matchbook out of her pocket and lights it, illuminating the space around them.

"Had to make a new spot. Considering I'm usually out by myself, nowadays." Catra says, though not accusatory. She understands why Adora has been so busy as of late, too busy to break some rules. Though she often wished that weren't the case.

Their backs are pressed against the thick base of the tree, side by side, god knows how deep into the woods they are now, but they're certainly not complaining. Catra is slumped down against its swirling roots, gulping down the last of the bottle she'd brought along with them. Adora is staring up at the stars that peek through the outlines of the leaves of the trees, humming.

Catra wipes at her lip, "It's funny."

"What's funny?" The blonde blinks, eyeing the trail of alcohol running down her companion's chin. Catra looks peaceful like this, pupils dilated in some sense of relaxation, breaths escaping in soft sighs. She brings her knees up to her chest, hugging them close.

"Your face." Catra snorts, shattering the image.

"Okay, rude much?" Adora mumbles, cracking a smile of her own. She should've expected just as much from her snarky, tipsy friend.

Catra giggles, slurring, (okay, maybe not _tipsy_ —) "I'm kidding. Only kidding." She reaches up to trace her fingertips across the side of Adora's jaw, 

"I like your face."

Wasn't often she got blatant compliments from her best friend. Adora lets herself bask in it, just this once. Even if she probably didn't really mean it.

"I like yours, too."

Catra only smirks at this, breaths heavy against Adora's face as she leans away from the blonde to reclaim her spot against the tree. Adora can feel herself grow embarrassed now, heartbeat throbbing at even the smallest of touches, sentiments. _Get it together_ , she screams through her alcohol-ridden mind.

Catra nudges the bottle toward her again and she takes it, reluctantly, waiting for Catra to look away to (fake) take another swig. She attempts to hand it back, and the catgirl doesn't take it. Only stares at her with narrowed eyes.

She's not stupid. And she knows that look on Adora's face, that gaze of anxiousness that incited the crease between her brows, her eyes flicking to her feet. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing.. I just..."

"This is your favorite— the expensive stuff." Catra nudges her gut, guesturing to the bottle held tight in Adora's fist. "Normally you'd jump at the chance to get your hands on it."

Okay, no need to mention Adora's _slight_ addiction to alcohol— but it's not relevant to the topic, now. Instead she only swallows, dry, feeling no attraction to the thick liquid before her. Even if it promised an easy solutions to these doubts, these insecurities.. the ones she was reminded of every time she got a good look at her best friend's face.

Gods did it hurt. So much. Normally, it was easy to suppress, to ignore.. but recently it had come to eat her alive. Knowing that this feeling would probably never go away, but also knowing she didn't want to ruin things with her best friend. That she wanted to stay with her indefinitely, regardless of what happened.

Catra always told her it was okay to be selfish, to want things. But what she wanted...

"Headache." She lies through her teeth, and though Catra's ear flicked, clearly unconvinced, she sets the bottle down and leaves it be. The moment is saved as Catra's phone dings loudly, and she slides her hand into her pocket to offer a response.

"It's Ocatavia." Catra mumbles. "Says I gave her a 5 instead of a 20."

"Did you?"

"What do you think?" Catra rolled her eyes.

They share a laugh at that. Ripping off Ocatavia was such a Catra thing to do, and Adora smiles at the thought.

"What are you thinking about?" Catra asks, idly. Studying the way Adora's haze follows the outlines of the leaves hanging above them.

"Just imaging Weaver's face if she saw us here, drunk off our asses and _certainly_ not studying." Adora chuckles, but in reality she is a bit nervous about that. She'd get some serious shit when they faced their hangover tomorrow.

"Oh please. You'll be fine." There's no bite to those words, but there's some numb truth behind them. Adora never got the same treatment as Catra for her misdemeanors— but at the same time, there was more expectations following that little detail. She doesn't want to resent Adora for that. It's not Adora's fault Weaver couldn't stand the sight of ears and a tail, anyway. A mind compromised by a blur of words and lack of academic capability.

But still. Catra can't help but think about it anyway.

"I can't wait to get away from her. Really." Adora sighs, heavy, arms reaching behind her head to stretch her aching body. A life without shadow weaver.. the prospect of never seeing her foster mother again shouldn't feel so exciting. But it does.

"Yeah. Maybe we can get you a life, while we're at it."

Catra laughs, shoving Adora's shoulder roughly. This earns a palm in Catra's face and the blonde can only smile in reprise to their roughhousing.

She scoffs. "I Uh. Have a _life_ , okay!"

"Yeah, right. Bet you don't have all the connections I do," Catra crosses her arms, smugly. "Honestly, what would you even do without me?" Catra brings her palm on top of Adora's, grinning sheepishly. The touch is, somehow, warmer than Adora's flaming cheeks.

The blonde can only look away, hand stiff under Catra's. _Yeah. I don't know what I'd do._

It's silent between them, for a bit. The sway of the branches surrounding them filling it generously. Catra turns to look at Adora, who is still lost in a blur of thought.

"Speaking of.. wouldn't it be cool to move in together? You know, when we're of age?" Catra's voice drags her out of her haze. She's gripping Adora's hand tightly now, thumb running along the crease on her palms. Eyes wide with wonder and.. determination.

Adora blinks at the words. Rapidly. She can hardly believe it, that Catra had just asked her that. Moving in together.. it seemed like a dream she'd conjured all too many times, maybe not in the same context but altogether just as incredible a possibility. Did she really mean it, or was her it simply her booze making this proposition for her?

They'd talked about it before. When they went off to college, the best way to stay in touch would likely be through a shared living room arrangement. It shouldn't feel weird— despite sharing a room with Catra all her life, the question felt different than before. Was that.. intimate? Sharing a room outside of childhood accommodations? Making a plan for it, even now when they were far from graduation? It was probably a bad idea. What with what Adora had just reminded herself, she shouldn't keep Catra so close as to hurt herself. To hurt both of them, inevitably.

But just this once, she doesn't listen.

"Yes. Let's do it."

====================

Adora's feet refused to move any further. Anchors at her heels, sparing her not a single step.

She's in front of BMS, Catra's physical therapy gym. There are cars littering the parking lot and people weaving in and out of the establishment, and she must've looked like an idiot just standing there. Maybe she was.

She cursed herself for even coming by here. She had no reason to, really, other than the restless pounding of her heart. Senseless impulse drawn by her concern for her old friend.

_You're just checking on her_. That's not weird, right? Too much? _Fuck_. If Adora doubted herself any more she was sure she'd explode into ash. Would Catra even want her here? Obviously, what with the whole _amputee_ deal.. (Adora felt out of place even thinking about it) she wasn't quite comfortable letting Adora in on the details, and probably didn't want her waltzing into a safe space. But then again, maybe she'd want a bit of comfort? She didn't seem to mind it too much last night, maybe even opened up to her quite considerably. It ignited a burning hope within her stomach that she couldn't seem to shake, even with these aching doubts pestering her.

She shakes her head. No. This was a mistake. _Catra doesn't want to see you_ , she taunts herself and her feet begin to move to the store next door, head hanging shamefully. She shoves her hands in her pockets and fights every urge to turn around. What's done is done. She hasn't forgotten what Catra said, and last night, Catra had depended on her because she was incapacitated and nothing more. This didn't mean they were friends and the last thing she wanted to be was another headache for her.

Her stubborn mindset shatters upon hearing a bustling laugh from the alleyway beside her that makes her stop in her tracks. _Catra_?

She was no stranger to that chuckle, it was prominent in their late night escapades and Adora's shitty attempts at jokes to cheer up her friend at the foster home. When she and Catra would race _anywhere_ they went, (Catra always won, thus the amusement,) it was unmistakable as it was enticing. Gods, it'd been so long since she'd heard it, plain and natural. Catra was out here, _laughing_? At what?

She tries to convince herself she's not crazy as she turns on her heel and heads toward the alleyway. It's not quite dark out, now, hardly past 7PM, but shadows protrude from the mouth of the alley like it's midnight. Her skin prickles at the eerie aura which surrounds her but she pays no mind to it in her pursuit.

"Shhh, quieter," another voice cuts in, and Adora can feel the gears in her head moving. What was happening? Was someone in trouble?

" _Fuck_ ," the rasp of Catra's voice took a sultry tone Adora had never heard before the exact second she rounded the corner. She barely has time to analyze the words as she soaks in the sight of the alleyway. And what a sight it was.

Catra was pressed tight against another woman,fingers curled into a mass of hair, face slacked and contorted. The woman lifted her by the thighs and shoved her smaller form her against the wall— a heated battle of their mouths occurring, Catra's small moans filled the (little to no) space between them. Adora muffled her gasp with a hand.

She ducks behind the brick wall aligning the gym's edge, eyes wide to the socket. Back pressed tight against the wall of the building, her breaths become erratic as she can't even _begin_ to analyze what she'd just witnessed. A reasonable explanation was out of the question as the scene continued from behind her.

_Dear gods_. She wonders if she really is crazy. Catra is concealed in the alleyway— Adora'd caught her in a compromising situation with one of the trainers, judging by the uniform cast across their shoulders. It was as scandalous as it was suprising, Catra had never strayed from sexual activities in high school but she certainly hadn't ever been this bold. They were in public— someone could see them. Hell, she'd seen them! Did Catra even care?

" _Please_ , don't stop," Adora had never heard Catra beg in her life, desperation aligning her every word. Judging by her tone, their frantic movements, there really was no care. They were on a mission. She was frozen in a surge of nothing short of confusion, confliction... oxygen becomes unattainable in this moment.

Her body seemed keen on remaining still, short circuiting. _Holy shit. This wasn't happening_.

She knew it was far from her business, but she couldn't stop the assumptions from invading her mind. Was it just sex, what she and this trainer had? Was Catra just letting off steam, like she'd often lamented to Adora senior year, or was it serious? She hadn't noticed Catra had a girlfriend, and she felt like the catgirl may have mentioned it at some point if that were the case. Had she walked in on nothing more than a forbidden rendezvous? Adora could feel that familiar pool of sadness form in her chest at either possibility.

She felt dirty, being here. Like she was somehow betraying Catra by coming across the two. She hadn't meant to, sure, but she was too afraid to run, too enticed with questions to leave. Too confused to form any thoughts worth abiding by.

It doesn't matter that she was disappointed— that she couldn't deny the punch in her gut as jealousy. Catra had a life now. It's not like time had suddenly stopped, that Catra wasn't allowed to put other people first, after all.. it had been half a decade. Things were bound to happen. They were adults. Why wouldn't Catra be seeing other people? She deserved that. Someone who wouldn't disappoint her.

And she seemed to be enjoying herself, much to her churning stomach's despair. Wasn't that enough? She'd been through so much hell, to an extent Adora couldn't even begin to understand. Partially because she'd left. She didn't get to just.. _expect_ things like that. Expect that there was still time, still a a chance.

Clearly, there wasn't any.

Somehow, Adora finds guilt in this situation, not only for the solemn reminder of how dismissive she had treated Catra in the past, but how angry she feels. How badly she still cared about Catra. How _pathetic_ was that? The catgirl had clearly moved on— fuck, moved on from _what_? They'd never been anything. Adora reminds herself of this as she bolts for the street, begging to any god above that Catra didn't notice her. She tries to drown out the lewd noises that continue from behind her. It was like a nightmare. She was a fool.

The worst part was Adora knew the woman was Lonnie. Their childhood friend— in some sense, her former wingman. It shouldn't hurt, but it did.

=========================

The soft hum of the vents of the locker room seem to taunt Catra, what in the way they groan like Satan's laughing down on her. Maybe he was— she certainly didn't care. Too much else to think about.

"The fuck is up with you? Not even five minutes after and you look... depressed." The dreadlocked girl from beside her asks, pulling her shirt over her head. "Really that torturous, huh?" She's staring at Catra from the side, hard, like she's drawing out some kind of lecture. She was only messing with her, sarcasm a fluent part of her vocabulary, but Catra tenses anyway as hot annoyance rises in her throat.

"Does it even matter?" Catra says, eyes looking anywhere possibly other than the girl she'd just boned. Suppose she just wasn't any good at aftercare. And it's god awful obvious something's bothering her, what with the way her ear flickers vehemently.

"Am I not allowed to give a shit?" Lonnie cocked a hand on her hip. Gods, here it was again. The dark-skinned girl always on her case— forever, always. Yet another persistent annoyance to stack to the pile. Was no strings attached simply a thing of the past? Cause' it sure seemed like there were some very loose threads here.

"We're not friends, so. Not sure why you care." Catra mutters, shrugging on her jacket. She grimaces as she tightens her prosthetic, which has become rather unhinged. Truth was, she hadn't really enjoyed what they'd just done- she never really did, there was a reason she'd cut things off before they could escalate anywhere past that. Why she'd just broken her sobriety.. she wasn't sure. She could be evasive and simply claim it as an easy distraction, but it was (quite obviously) so much more complicated than that.

This concern was void from her mind as she wanted to get out of here more than anything. The room suddenly felt stuffy, the vents groaning in agreement as hot air filled the space around her. Better now before the churning regret started to set in.

Lonnie seems to mumble something after that, Catra's skillful ears catching something along the lines of, _and yet we keep doing this_ , decidedly ignoring the suspicious undertone. Lonnie exits the locker room shortly after, leaving Catra alone with her thoughts.

Another figure brushes past Lonnie as she leaves, entering the room. Catra's back is turned but by the heavy weight of her footsteps she assumes the obvious.

"Hey, Catra!" A voice greets her cheerfully, and Catra brushes off what feels like relief in her chest. She hadn't seen Scorpia in a while.. (that said a lot, considering they were roommates) and the sight was refreshing, to say the least. She blinks and scampers for her shirt when she realizes she's still underdressed.

"What's— _oh_." Scorpia averts her gaze from Catra's shirtless form, clearly embarrassed. "I'm sorry! I didn't know—"

"Just.. it's fine" Catra is fully clothed now, standing up with her arms crossed. She tries her very best not to be embarrassed— not necessarily by the fact her friend had just seen her half naked, not at all. But because Scorpia wasn't an idiot, she knew what had just happened between her and Lonnie. It was a distraction.. er, _mistake_ , nothing more.. but Scorpia wouldn't get that. Scorpia had always flaunted a steady (two-year long) sickeningly strong relationship. She wouldn't understand why Catra kept doing this, kept throwing herself into these meaningless rendezvous; maybe Catra didn't exactly understand that herself, either.

Scorpia, praise god, decides not to comment on the obvious. "Okay.. well, how are you? You didn't make dinner last night."

Yeah. Catra _had_ ignored her calls. Admittedly she felt bad, as their weekend dinners were tradition— it was the least Catra could do for being a consistently shitty friend to Scorpia and Entrapta, but it hadn't been without reason. That had been the night she'd fled with Adora and.. it was a whole other can of worms.

"Yeah.. I'm sorry for not calling back. I had another episode and just.." it wasn't a complete lie, but she caught her lip before any further details slipped out. She didn't want Scorpia getting excited or something when really it meant.. nothing. Granted, maybe she kept too many secrets from her friend but it wasn't much of anything anyway. Nothing to get worked up about.

Plus, Scorpia had always _heavily_ encouraged Catra to reach out to Adora ever since her dispatch. She'd never shut up about her while they were stationed of course, god knows she'd missed Adora unbearably at the time. Probably to the point where Scorpia knew almost everything about the blonde without actually meeting her. Regardless, she hadn't made any attempt to. She still felt that way now, sort of.

"Oh, no no that's totally fine." Scorpia assures her with a hand on her shoulder, "More importantly, are you alright?" God, Catra didn't deserve her.

"No. I'm not." The words leave her mouth before she has any time to stop them. Normally, that's not something she'd admit. But nothing was normal about right now. "Can we just.. get out of here?"

"Yeah— of course. You don't need to ask me twice, wildcat."

==========================

“Uh.. why is entrapta here?”

Catra’s bubbly, scientific friend only smiles, rolling toward her in her automatic wheelchair. “Oh, hey, Catra! Sorry for the spontaneous appearance.”

"Well, I thought I'd invite your other best bud." Scorpia looks excited out of her mind. Catra's ear twitches.

"Why?" She repeats. As much as she loved Entrapta, she wasn’t exactly someone to stick around to keep a low profile with. Especially not in a situation like now.

"Well, I figured you'd need all the moral support you can get. After all, if you're planning on talking with Adora—"

"I'm _not_ —" the denial falls flat on her tongue. "—going to stay for long," she mumbles, arms crossed. Never daring to meet Scorpia's stupid, sickeningly hopeful smile.

She sighs. She’d just have to work with this. "Just— stay cool, okay?" She's not sure why she feels the need to impress the store's inhabitants, but she ignores it. Praying her two friends that follow her into her car don't intervene.

They pull up to the address, and Catra can only shake her head in amusement. Of course Adora is a manager at Popeyes. It's so fitting, how she clings onto the past like it's all she's got. She wants to say it probably had something to do with the free food, as well.. but she tries not to dwell to much on the useless theories.

She'd wondered what kind of hellhole job Adora had settled with when she mentioned she worked part time. Maybe she'd imagined some sort of fitness oriented profession, but she couldn't lie, the thought of dirty hat and shiny orange badge was, admittedly, kind of endearing.   
  


She shrugs on a pair of cargo pants over her shorts as well as her prosthetic to conceal it entirely. Scorpia doesn’t mention it, though her gaze is downcast and she looks like she has something she wants to say. 

  
As she nears the door, she nods to her friends and they, respectfully, keep their distance and stay by the car. As she makes her way inside, it's crowded. Far too crowded. People litter the space around the counter like buzzing flies, and Catra feels overwhelmed already. She came here with a purpose, with a thought in mind. And... yet she's still not sure why she's standing here.

She pushes her way through a couple people standing around idly, making her way toward the bathroom. She walks towards the line of sinks and meets eyes with herself in the mirror. There's a buzzing feeling in her chest, a blazing anxiousness that hadn't quite emerged until she'd stepped foot inside the establishment. Her claws dig into the cool metal sides of the sink in frustration.

She blinks at herself, suddenly feeling an urge to speak. She knows the blonde isn't in here, but it feels necessary.

"Adora, do you.." the words cut off. She's staring at herself in the mirror, sternly, commanding the words forth. But they die on her tongue as soon as somebody enters the bathroom, shooting her a confused look.

She can feel her face burning. Meeting eyes with herself, she can see an expression forming that was all too familiar, all too dangerous. The red dancing up her neck and to her ears incredibly embarrassing. What she was asking wasn't anything besides a normal hangout— reaching out in simple appreciation for the other night. Why couldn't she do that? Why was she sitting here like an idiot, practicing in the mirror like some nervous schoolgirl?

She wants to say it's because she's no good at apologies, at appreciation. Yeah, that was it— that was always Adora's thing, Catra usually being on the other end of it. She wanted to be better at that but.. it just didn't come naturally. It probably never would.

Another figure enters the bathroom now. Her eyes remain on the mirror and the mirror alone. Feeling static on every hair of her back as the girl passed by, completely oblivious. From what she could gather out of the corner of her eye, this girl dressed in a Popeye's uniform probably taking her lunch break was, undoubtedly, the girl she'd handed Adora over to the other night. Bright purple and pink streaks in short hair. There was something about the way she carried herself that had Catra's nails scratching against the side of the sink once more. How her eyes were glued to her phone, typing fast, the grey (handmade?) satchel strewn across her back—

_No. Don't_. She stops herself. She doesn't care who this woman is, or who she is to Adora. And it doesn't matter that she's here— I mean, they hardly knew each other aside from when Catra had delivered Adora’s drunken mess off the other night. She could only pray (Glimmer, was it?) wouldn't recognize her, and even worse, attempt to spike up conversation. She was already having a stroke trying to muster up a few words to someone she knew very well.

When the girl disappears into the stall, Catra books it. She runs her fingers through her hair a final time before exiting the restroom, thoughts buzzing uncomfortably. She needed to focus on the task at hand, now. It'd be easy. Quick in and out.

And then she sees _her_ at the front counter, and those comforting thoughts may as well be ash.

Gods, her whole fucking life had changed. So much. But Adora stood across the room from her, looking no different than their high school days. Sure she'd only seen her days ago but the image hadn't quite lost its effect. That consistently was.. alarming, to say the least. The fact that distance and time had hardly changed her. Maybe only in the way her face was perfectly shaped, the way her biceps became more defined over time come vigorous training, the softness accompanying her eyes.

She's speaking to a customer, who's looking a bit angry with her. Scratch that, _fuming_. And yet her composure remains, not a single trace of annoyance rising in her eyes. She'd always been patient like that. Maybe it was a mask of indifference, but Catra could never dream of keeping herself so collected. Came as a bonus with the.. anger issues, suppose.

Catra passes by the counter subtly, taking her place behind the angry customer. Adora feels her weight go to her feet at the sight of Catra. She can't help how her skin prickles uncomfortably, unable to erase the image from only hours before. But she could pretend with a hard swallow and nothing more, an aversion of her gaze. 

"Oh, uhm— hey, Catra!" Adora's attention is suddenly ripped away from the customer, enraptured in Catra and Catra alone. She raises an eyebrow, gesturing to the person she was just helping.

Catra knows that tense swallow. She's embarrassed. "Oh, uh.. right." The blonde coughs into her fist. 

It takes a few minutes, (feels like hours, _days_ —) but Adora finally approaches the booth in which Catra now sits, nails tapping against the hardwood table.

"Didn't expect to see you here." She says, lamely.

_Me neither_ , Catra wants to say but she bites it back, instead settling with, "Yeah, well, I’m hungry. Can’t I just grab a bite, or whatever?”

_Wow. Terribly smooth_ , she chastises herself. Wanting nothing more than the slam her dumb head against the table.

"Okay—" the blonde reaches for her notepad, but freezes midway. "Wait, _what_?" Adora blinks in confusion.

"What?"

"Uh, duh? You _hate_ fried chicken...?" Adora mumbles, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Catra's ears flatten at that. She could hardly believe Adora remembered that, and she feels stupid, now. Stupid for making excuses, dancing around what she really wanted. Stupid for stirring this warm, foreignfeeling in her chest. Somehow flattered by the fact Adora had kept that little detail in her mind.

"Okay, fine I didn't come here for the shit food," She admits, head low, "Just had something to ask."

"O-oh, yeah?" Adora hesitantly slides into the booth across from her now, looking nervous. Trying hard to keep it down despite Catra reading her every twitch and swallow.

"I just.. appreciate what you did last night,” she adds an air in nonchalantness, “or whatever."

Adora blinks, as if taken aback. Catra didn't blame her.

"And Scorpia has free tickets to sixland.."

Adora recognizes this as an invitation. “Oh, yeah! Sure! I love amusement parks!"

_I know._

"Uhm, yeah," Catra has suddenly forgotten how words felt tumbling off her tongue, "I'll pick you up tomorrow? At five?"

"Yes. I'm free. Okay." Adora is tense at this, notably.

Catra can only nod, with a swallow. There’s more she wants to say, but as of right now, Adora is staring blankly across the restaurant. Probably in disbelief. Maybe.

"Adora?" Catra says, crossing her arms. "You're doing that thing."

"W-what?" She snaps out of it, abruptly.

"You're thinking. Way too hard." She wonders if she's saying that more for herself than Adora. She ignores the thought.

Adora's cheeks warm at the observation. Suddenly, she has an unexplainable urge to leave.

"I um.. I was just about to head out," she forced out. It wasn't a complete lie.

The image is still fresh in her brain. Catra and Lonnie in the back alley, so close she was sure the atoms between them were straining. She should be over it by now. She's not.

"Too many hours. Sending some of us home early." Adora adds on with a shrug— she wasn't a good liar, so it was nothing short of the truth. Only thing was, her shift wasn't over.

"Well, gods.. can I talk to you before you go?" Catra mumbles, stopping her before she can fully stand. "It wasn't easy coming here, you know."

The touch feels stagnant. The feeling of Catra's fingers enveloping her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. She lets Catra speak, upon seeing how important this seems to her. That she'd come all the way out here, just for a chance to talk.

“Your offer from the other night.. about the whole, volleyball deal or whatever." Catra looks down, and she cannot fight the flush that claims her.

"Yeah?" Adora asks, intrigued, even despite her blazing anxiousness.

"I accept."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a date. Totally. Not?  
> information is still pending¿


End file.
